#he IS from space AND WE WERE ALL WRONG AND TOO QUICK TO JUDGE

[smileyobrien]

AHFGAKSJFKJA PLEASE

[notthecutesttrash]

Grey (Pt. 1)

Content: Miya Atsumu is a bully, and his fangirls are even worse. They make your life at school a hell.

Trigger Warnings: Verbal + physical bullying, language

Word count: 7.29k

PART 2, PART 3

The bell rings and you grab your books to sprint off. Frantically you open your locker, and as you do, a white crumpled-up paper falls at your feet. You open it and find angry scribbled words, all ranging from “Loser!” to “Get lost!” and “You're pathetic.” Exhaling a sigh, you place the books into the overhead space and grab the others. 

This all started a week and a half ago.

You had been in class and the exhaustion was creeping up into your mind. It was the last hour, the sun was lowering, it looked to be a moody day, and you could only hear the teacher every other time she spoke. This time she was chewing out Miya Atsumu over a wrong answer which then turned into a long lecture. 

All you could think at the time was huh, guess he only had one skill, and that was just wooing pathetic girls over. 

The class went silent for a bit, and you exhaled a sigh, turning to the main board, only to see Atsumu and what felt to be every woman in the class glaring at you so strongly it could pierce. 

You froze, sputtering a “s-sorry…” as you bowed your head. Ever since then, you could feel a heavy shadow looming at your back. 

It was just a fleeting thought, you didn’t mean it negatively. Well, maybe you did. You weren’t sure anymore, but you don’t think you deserved this sort of treatment for such a stupid comment. 

Every other girl you passed shot you a look like you were nothing but dirt beneath their feet, even a few men. 

Was the whole world on his side? 

You cradle your books to your chest as Atsumu begins to walk down the same hallway. Look down. Just look down and nothing will happen. He turns his head to look at you as you pass, and you can feel your breath stuck in your throat. Yet as you manage past him, nothing happens. Relief instantly follows. You were going to be all right, nothing big was going to happen. It was just a stupid little comment. Soon it will all be forgotten. 

Suddenly an obstacle blocks your foot as you absentmindedly walk. You stumble and almost fall face-first into the floor. The books in your hands drop, and luckily your free hands are there to brace you. You’re on your knees, nose nearly kissing the floor as you feel a crowd pause to get a good look at you. They were snickering, and when you look up, Atsumu’s down the hall giggling, a terrible grin on his face. There's a woman in front of you, the one who presumably tripped you, laughing. You sheepishly go to grab one of the books and she kicks it to the side. 

You can get through this, this was nothing. You were sure of it. 

It's even worse when you remember that Miya Atsumu is one of the best volleyball players ever. Of course, you on the other hand, on the girl's volleyball team, are the complete opposite. Although your team was nice, they didn't talk to you much. One of the middle blockers, Angie, was giving you side eyes and little glares whenever you missed a receive. When another spike came, you dove and missed by a few inches. 

"Sorry guys.." You exhale a disappointed sigh and the ones on the other side of the net are the only ones smiling at you. 

 "No worry Y/n! Maybe it's just not your day. That's okay, it happens!" Lucy shouts with a grin, giving you a quick thumbs up. You muster a begrudging nod. 

Angie harrumphs with her hands on her waist, scanning you. "And you have the nerve to judge an all-Japan camp candidate when you can't even get one receive as our libero." You frown and cast a glare on the floor. 

Lucy huffs on the flipside. "Stop it, Angie, we all know he's good, there's no need to shove it in our faces. The point is, he's not here, and he's definitely not going to be watching you, so move on." She gasps, and the other girls can't help but snicker. You're too exhausted to even pay attention to the conversation.

Your hands are on your knees while you desperately catch your breath. 

"Inarizaki has no place for weak players." A quiet but stern woman speaks. Miyu. Her palm is holding the ball you failed to receive. 

Lucy holds her hands up and waves them around anxiously, attempting to ease everyone. "Everyone has off days. let's not bully her about it."

Angie visibly rolls her eyes. "She's been having off days for like 2 weeks straight now." 

Lucy opens her mouth to probably defend you with another sentence you don't deserve, so you just speak.

"I'm sorry, I will do better." 

No one responds as you bow, but you can feel the irritation lingering in the atmosphere. 

After practice is finished and all the girls leave, Lucy meets you outside the entrance. She has this sort of pitiful look that sinks your stomach. 

"Hey.. listen, (Y/n).." she nervously trails. You had a feeling this was going a certain somewhere. 

"The other girls seem to be complaining a bit about your performance lately.. and you know… I don't want to do this but.. the coach thinks.." She's fidgeting, struggling to come up with the right words. 

You're pouting, tears pricking your eyes. "You're cutting me off..?" Your words leave in a choked whisper. 

"No! No.. well… you might be… but! You aren’t yet. You can still prove him wrong..” 

She sighs, and her hand gently holds your arm. 

"Listen… I know you're going through some things right now. So just take your time. "She pauses, then looks at you pitifully. "Hey.. maybe if it happens.. it won't be necessarily the worst thing right now. Maybe you might even need it." She is coming from a good place, but you're hurt. 

You fail to respond and that helpless look appears again. 

“I’m sorry (Y/n)..”

You're striving to keep your expression as blank as could be as you nod. “Thanks for letting me know.” You turn fast, hoping she won't continue anymore. You just wanted to go home now.

Though, when you leave the gymnasium, you hear the boy’s side practicing. They're always extremely intense, and many times their practice runs late. You had an urge, and you decided to follow it.

Mustering up all the courage, you go inside, up to the second floor as quietly as possible while they play. Two squealing girls are already watching, too captured by the scene to care about you. Atsumi’s twin brother Osamu was there. Admittedly, they were an impressive duo. You didn't have to be good at volleyball to see that. 

Osamu had a serene sort of confidence, while Atsumu.. well, he looked like the type to do a dump shot just to be petty because he knew he could.

You hated to say his sets were beautiful, perfect even. 

Michinari, the team’s libero, receives almost every volleyball that flows his way. Even if the serve was a floater, a jump spike, or a simple one. It was impressive, and you aim to study his movements.

The way he holds his arms, the way he moves, his focus, everything you didn't do. The whistle blows and they get back into position, and you meet eyes with none other than the blonde twin who is currently serving. He raises his brow, his cocky face almost disgustingly amused. You glimpse far away to avoid him. It’s not like you came for him anyway, god, you hope he didn’t think that. 

The whistle blows and he walks up 6 steps, jumps, and hits a powerful serve that Michinari almost wasn't able to bump.

“Nice receive!”

Michinari calls out, “Bit short, sorry!” 

Atsumi touches the ball, and you're confused. He can’t set it now. Why would he do that? 

Osamu is the one who jumps and sets the ball to Atsumi who runs to a side with no blockers and does an insane quick you've never seen before. The impact alone has the sound bouncing off the walls. 

“Ahhhh! God, they’re so cool!!!” The girls go crazy beside you. 

You hum to yourself.

You've seen enough. Besides you didn't want to be anywhere near one of the twins, so you left as quietly as you came. The gym was empty now, the girls were gone and you could practice without judgment. 

You bounce the volleyball on the wall and attempt to receive it. Still, even with it being much slower than the average serve or spike, you were slightly off. Huffing, you bounce it against the wall and it comes to you, you were sure you got it this time. Your arms attempt to tap it, but it awkwardly hits your neck and topples over. 

Maybe it was your position, either you were too close or too far. First, you try stepping a bit back and you serve into the wall. It comes at you fast, and you feel as if you could see it in slow motion. It was perfect, you were going to hit- it flies over your head and you're dumbfounded.

Okay, closer. Farther wasn't right. 

This time you run to where the ball is headed, and right when it's about to come to you, you position your arms perfectly just for it to hit your knee. The next time it hits you in your groin and you grumble beneath your breath. 

One more time. 

You serve to the wall and it powerfully bounces off. You were ready. You could do this. Just position. The anticipation rises, and you sidestep the way it moves. A large grin stretches, you got it! 

Your finger just barely graces the ball, but it sends it flying a few inches high and it hits your shoulder.

Michinari. Remember. 

Remember the way he stands, the way he moves, the way he reads its direction. 

Your arms attempt to replicate his, and your knees bend just a little. 

One of the volleyballs hits the side of your head, but you did touch it, so that was progress.

It makes you smile. 

Sure, you got knocked into the chest almost every other time, but all that mattered was after the 30th try, your arm made contact again.

The ball lifts only a few inches above your arms before it slaps you on the head and splats to the ground. It travels close to the other dozen that lay around the gym. You're groaning as another flies past you. 

Another serve, you could do it, just one more. You push it and it slams against the wall, rebounding your way. Perfect! Getting into position, your concentration narrows as it comes to you. A forceful impact meets your knee. 

You lift the ball and slam it with your palm. It was so fast you could barely keep up with it, and you were a second off from receiving it before it wacks your neck. Coughing out at the impact, you huff and try again. Just keep your arms down, don’t waver every time you see the ball coming towards you. 

It was slow, but it flew your way, and you remained patient. Just get the timing down, not too early, not too late. Now!

You bump the ball perfectly into the air and gasp at the contact. You could do it! You could finally do it! Your eyes remain on it, waiting for it to come back down, a massive grin on your face. 

"You're doing it wrong." A voice interrupts your concentration and the ball slams into your face. 

"Ow.." you rub your nose, whining. The ball thuds against the floor.

When you eventually look up to the cause of your lost focus, you instinctively step back. Atsumu is there, sweat dripping down his skin after a long practice, eyes judging you.

You don't speak, and you can't even meet his gaze for more than a second.

He steps to the bin and grabs a volleyball. He does a quick normal serve against the wall, and it bounces to him in a split second. He positions his arms and receives it perfectly. You glue onto the way it cascades so beautifully.  

He studies your look, amused at the ignorance.

"Bend your knees like this." He does the motion and you falter before hesitantly mirroring. 

"No. lower." You do it and glance at him for approval. "Arms like this. This side showing more than the back." 

He gets into a normal stance to throw the ball above your arms. You keep your arms together as you receive it, and although it wasn't very high, you couldn't help the happiness that befell on you. That was so much easier than all the other times. 

Atsumu humorlessly chuckles "To think you're on the volleyball team and you don't know this." Your view averts, arms cradling the ball you just bumped like a trophy. 

No matter the insult, you sucked up your pride.

You mumble a "thanks.." and he scoffs.  

“Yeah, I’m going.” He starts walking to the door and you nod.

“Okay.."

Today was a rough day, but tomorrow will be better, you repeat this continuously as a sort of mantra when you get home.  

Your parents greet you happily and there is a warm meal on the table. You slip your shoes off before stepping into the kitchen.  "We got one of your favorites!" Your mother chirps.

You can barely fake a smile. Most days this would make you happy enough to forget everything that occurred in the school day, but not this time. The happy grins fall and they become worried. 

Great, look what you did. 

"Is something wrong (Y/n)?"  

You swiftly shake your head at the tone. A smile spreads your lips wide, maybe a bit too forcefully. You sold that fake happiness by rushing to sit at the table.

"No, nothing serious. I was just a bit annoyed from practice today. I couldn't receive at all." Your dad raises a confused brow as he attempts to remember what receiving is.

"It's when you catch the ball, you know, like this-" you angle your arms down and put your hands together. He makes an o with his mouth and nods. 

"Everyone has their days." Your mother is as optimistic as Lucy. 

You share thanks and dig in. 

"Even candidates for that All Japan youth camp have their days you know, and they're the same age as you, so there's still a lot of growth there." You're silent, and you set your chopsticks down. There's a big inevitable frown plastered on your face. You knew it meant to cheer you but to think of Atsumu and how talented he was after you insulted him and him helping you learn basics you should already know.

"Yeah, you're right." 

Your mood drops significantly. They give each other a side-eye.

When you're done you clean your dishes and head to your room. Wrapping the blankets around you in a sort of burrito you sigh as a few tears slip down your cheeks. You wish you hadn't said that. 

Back to another miserable panic-inducing day. 

Before class, you open your locker to now see two notes falling to your feet. You stop and stare while some girls giggle maniacally behind you. Sighing, you pick them up, crumbling the paper beneath your fingertips. Grabbing your books, you head to class and ignore how it feels like all eyes are on you when you pace.

"Look, it's the  libero who can't even receive a ball." Someone starts the moment you walk in. Frowning, you hold your bag tighter as Atsumu's eyes glue to you, a smirk dawning on his expression. 

"She-"

His words are interrupted by a shy woman who is holding a cute pink-wrapped box in her hands. A blush dusts her cheeks, and she crosses her legs. "I-I.. made this for you Atsumu… I-" An eek leaves her as Atsumu scowls hard, an expression that could terrify just about anyone. Class starts and she nervously bolts to her seat.  

You never liked long lectures or busy classwork, yet now you've learned to appreciate it. This was the only peace you'd get until you had to traverse the hallways or go to practice. You should just feign sickness, it's not like they'd miss your presence anyway. 

For lunch, you typically sit outside on one of the benches in the shade. You liked being here lately. It was nice, and when the wind rustled the trees nearby, the sound would calm you.

You lean against the bench and sigh, placing your bento atop your lap. You undo the cute little cat wrap your mom gave you. It did cheer you up a bit. You open up the box to see your favorite. You smile sweetly.  

"Look who it is, little miss (Y/n)" A sudden catty voice alerts you. 

Panic rises, and you shift your view to the sound. A group of girls known as the cheering squad for the boy’s volleyball team are walking toward you.

They have angry expressions, and their hips jut to the side as they near.

"So, what do you have to say for yourself?" The "main" woman in front, named Kiyoko speaks to you like some dog. You tilt your head, anxious and confused. What was the right answer here? 

You shouldn't be scared, you wanted so desperately not to be, but instead, you're cowering under their scowls, holding your lunch tighter to you.

"For what..?" You genuinely ask.

They growl like mutts, and suddenly the open box in your hands is viciously yanked from you. Before you can register what was happening food began dripping down your hair, a weight on your scalp tumbling. 

"Did that jog your memory?" 

You're quiet, and your teeth grit against one another, hands bawled into fists. Don't say it. Don't say it. 

"I'm sorry." You whisper.

A thick sauce drips down your hair. 

Kiyoko leans down, cupping her ear. "What was that? I couldn't hear you." You suck in a sharp breath. 

"Aw look she's going to cry." A voice in the group erupts. 

"Whose pathetic now?"  

They giggle together, and your knuckles turn white. 

You speak louder. "I'm sorry." 

"That's what I thought." She pats your cheek condescendingly. "Have fun cleaning that up." 

They leave as quickly as they came, and you dissociate as they laugh horridly while walking. Food begins to fall onto your jacket. If you didn't clean it up now, you would just be more of a laughing stock later.

A gust of wind flows, and the tree sways. Yet not even that makes you feel at peace right now. 

Water runs down your neck as you're in the bathroom, attempting to scrub the smell of curry out of your hair. The stickiness is hard to get out, and your scalp looks like some mangled mess. You pool warm water into your hands and splash it over the grains of rice that are glued together. It takes pretty much the entire lunch period until you get it all out. 

Luckily you have your volleyball jacket in your locker that you can swap out for the other. Fortunately, because it's a little oversized, it falls at your sides, just enough to cover the splotches of stains on your skirt.  

The teacher furrows her brow at you when you walk into the deafened room. "(Y/n).. you're la-.. why are you wet?"  Your hair is drenched and tangled as you walk to your seat. The girls who know what happened are snorting to themselves. 

"I fell into the lake." It was a stupid excuse but it was enough for the teacher to awkwardly continue with the lesson. That was until a loud laugh cuts the tense atmosphere.

The teacher sighs, “Yes, Atsumu, do you have a question?" You turn to the sight. At the opposite end of the class, there he is, poorly stifling a laugh.

Atsumu is chortling as he talks. "I guess not even that can wash away your horrid smell." The girls in the class laugh a little too hard at that.

"Enough. I didn't want to start it now, but since you two have a problem, you will be assigned together for the new project coming up. You will work together and makeup, whether you like it or not. I will not tolerate unkindness in my classroom. I don't want to hear any ifs or buts." The teacher calms before continuing. "Now, make sure you all listen up, I will now say the rest of the assigned partners." 

You meet Atsumu's instant cold glare and your eyes widen in fear. A jolt of anxiety rushes to your stomach. You feel sick.

"Now, we will use the rest of this time today and tomorrow to come up with a plan. You should be about halfway done at that point. This is due next Tuesday. Do whatever you need to do outside of the time, go to the library, discuss outside of school, meet up, exchange emails, whatever, but you will only have these 2 days in class to work on this." Great, a worse sentence couldn't have been said when your partner was Atsumu of all people.

The teacher gives you and Atsumu a firm look. "Do I make myself clear?" He's annoyed, you're terrified, yet you both nod either way. 

"Good, now disperse." She flicks her hand and everyone begins moving. 

Most of the girls in the class, or all, including Kiyoko and her group, send you angry glances. It's not like you wanted to be paired with him either. 

You're anchored in your seat, too scared to move. Would he come to you? Would you have to come to him?

Will you just not at all talk for these 2 days and do the work independently? Will you-

"Let’s get this over with." Atsumu has his hands in his pockets, his eyes refusing to look at yours. You nervously clear your throat. 

"R-Right.." 

It's a bit begrudging, but he sits near you and starts to work in his notebook. You do the same, occasionally not aiding the way you're examining his hand move so efficiently. He even had pleasant handwriting.

He doesn't glimpse your way, but you can tell he's getting peeved. “Are you going to keep looking, or are you going to work?"  You swiftly avert, awkwardly beginning to mimic the speed at which he writes. Your hands are shaking but you become so adamant you can't even focus on the way there are stares and whispers behind you. 

"Does she even shower, why does she smell like that?"

"She's such a loser." 

"Did you hear she can barely even receive the ball?"

"As the libero too, it's literally her job. Talk about lame. The audience would probably cheer if she got switched out."

"Seriously, I don’t even know why she's the main one, the other one is so much better." 

Atsumu side-eyes you for a second, then goes back to his writing.

The bell rings, and your focus ultimately gets cut off when he begins packing. You mutter an oh and do the same.

You're getting dreary thinking about going to practice now. Your stomach grumbles and you hold it. Maybe you could go to the vending machine, the one with milk and protein drinks so you can get some energy.

Yeah, with what money? 

Rushing into the hallway, you ignore how Atsumu is still standing outside until he calls you.

“Hey (Y/n).” Atsumu sing songs eerily, and you halt, fear swarming inside you. 

He wouldn’t do anything to you like the girls would right? You could deal with a few prissy ladies shoving you to the side, tripping you, and grabbing your lunch, but him? 

You timidly rotate his way and he's holding that usual pompous sneer. 

His tone is sadistic and light. “I heard you might get kicked off the team, what a shame.” 

Small tears brew in your eyes at the mention, fingers bawling into a tight white-knuckled fist. 

“Oh? Did I strike a nerve? But really, I think it’s a relief, don’t you?” He continues, “I couldn’t imagine getting kicked off my own team." 

Atsumu snickers and his orbs quickly darken. "But that would never happen, because I’m more than just a guy who can swoon a few pathetic girls over you know. You though.." He fakes a pondering gesture. "I wonder. Are there any skills you possess?" 

There's a lump in your throat that you can't bear to swallow and he chuckles. "Right. That's what I thought." He turns to leave.

“Well, at least the female side won’t have to be ashamed anymore.” 

Tears meet your cheek. An inevitable sniffle escapes when the tightness in your throat closes. You wish you could scream out how much of a jerk he was, but all you did was whirl around and run away. 

A hand touches Atsumu's shoulder, pulling his focus away. “Don’t you think that was a little mean?” Osamu is gazing at him seriously. 

Atsumu scoffs. “Anyone who can’t take the truth doesn’t deserve to be playing a competitive sport, especially if they suck.” 

Osamu wacks his brother’s head, and the blonde-haired twin growls, raising his fist to do the same. 

The next day you smell like soy sauce.

Though, at least It was a lot easier to clean.

You rung your hair of water. Your hands press against the sides of the sink, and you gaze at yourself in the reflection. From staying up late crying, not eating breakfast in the morning because you had to rush out, to not being able to eat lunch, you're a mess. The bell rings and your expression darkens.  

Maybe if you pretend you didn't hear it... Maybe if you went to sleep in the stall you could just rest for a bit. 

The bell repeats its terrible tune.

You pat your face dry and force yourself to return. On this occasion, you're on time so no one would notice you. Or so you would've thought. 

"Did you enjoy your lunch (Y/n)?" A girl speaks, a snarky trail at the end of her words. There is laughter amongst another little side posse. You turn to her, quiet, and staring.

She zips her lips and you go to your seat.  

"What's her deal?" 

"It was just a joke." 

“You know the whole ordeal. Everyone, get with your partners. This is the last day in class to talk with each other." 

With that, everyone gets together and unfortunately, yours does too. 

Atsumu is sighing as if completely forgetting the day before. “Let’s get this done, the last thing I want to do is meet up.” 

You nod and open your notebook. It's silent for a couple of minutes until one of you ruins it. 

“Why is your hair wet again?" 

Atsumu raises a snide brow. "Go for another swim?" 

"Yes." 

He didn't expect that straightforward answer but still chuckles. 

It doesn’t get to you, and you keep writing. He appears amused that he wasn't managing to aggravate you. You’re not surprised. This is Inarizaki, the school that tries to make other teams cheaply mess up by booing or playing loud music when they serve.  

A moment passes and you tiredly declare, “I’m sure neither of us wants to talk to each other, so let’s just focus, then we won’t have to meet up later.”

He looks amused. “You’re a lot of how I expected you to be.” You turn to him, and he shrugs. 

“A teacher’s pet.” 

You frown, mumbling mainly to yourself, “I don’t see anything wrong with that.” Atsumu chuckles. 

“Of course, you don’t” 

You fixate on him, and his expression remains.

You just had to get this done, then he wouldn’t be at your side bothering you any longer. 

The time is ticking, and the last thing you want is to have to text him. You’d rather take a 0 then do that. 

Well, maybe not to that extreme, but you sure as hell didn’t want to be in contact with him, or worse, have him come to your house.

He would have that annoying smug gleam as he sits at the table and makes conversation with your parents. Your mom would be so charmed, and she’d be nice enough to make him dinner. Then he’d eat it and make dramatic gestures about how good it is, meanwhile, deep inside all he wants to do is probably throw it at you.

A shudder cascades just thinking of it. 

The more time passes, the less confidence you have in finishing this project today. There was maybe a quarter left, and that would’ve been fine if again… it wasn’t a team job.

Maybe if he was doing his side, you wouldn’t be in this predicament. 

You're writing faster, while the pompous ass turns in his seat and starts cracking jokes with the pair behind him. If you could just finish these parts.

You just need to do a few more. Your breath catches in your throat the more you glance at the clock. With a few minutes left, there was surely no way you could finish. Albeit, if you give up now then it'd only prove that. You just have to keep writing and hope.  

Anxiety is pacing your heart, and you're getting sloppier and sloppier the more you go. The laughs of the row behind you, the tick of the clock, the sound of your pulse expanding and expanding drags you to the edge. 

The bell rings, signaling the end. You slump in your chair, defeated. Atsumu grins and grabs his bag, considering he didn’t even take anything out, all he had to do was just get up and leave while you pack. 

What a jerk.  

Somehow, he still manages to take his sweet time, and he practically traps you in, making it irritatingly impossible to leave. You throw your bag around your shoulder and stuff your fingers in your pockets.

Your head hangs low as Osamu is at the door again, waiting for his obnoxious twin. You didn’t know who was a little older, but god you hoped it was the grey-haired one. 

"Hey." Atsumu starts, and your heart speeds up. This was going to be just like yesterday, wasn't it?

You nervously fixate on him. He's tall, much more than you remember, maybe around 180 cm. 

"Give me your phone number." 

You're taken aback, tilting your head confusedly.

"F-For.. what?" You blank and he impatiently glowers. 

His voice is deep when annoyed. "What else for? The project." 

You quickly nod. "R-Right.. sorry. It's um.." You nervously push your hands into your bag, struggling to find your phone. Most are already out of the classroom at this point and he's becoming more visibly impatient. 

You feel it and immediately pull it out. Opening your contacts list, he yanks it out of your hand and starts typing. Once finished, he throws it at your desk and you fail to catch it as it slams against the wood. He casually turns to leave. 

He suddenly rotates his head over his shoulder and gives you a sharp look.  "You should quit volleyball," he says.

"Everyone has a job on the court and you can't fill yours, because you suck." 

You're frowning again.

Osamu gives you a momentary glance before leaving. You're frozen in place, his words echoing in your head. 

On Thursday, you feign sickness to stay home.

You wrap yourself in a burrito of blankets while you watch TV. At least at home, you can eat freely. You also won't hear mean gossip behind you. You're never absent anyway, so one day was easy. Just one day to yourself. One day without seeing either of the twins’ faces. No fangirls, no volleyball team, no stress, just one peaceful weekday beneath the sheets.

You sleep until 10. 

Although a bath sounds wonderful, it's refreshing to just walk downstairs with pajamas and messy untouched hair. “Good morning.”

You yawn, grab a cup, pour yourself orange juice, then sit down at the table. It was a nice day to eat breakfast together without any rush to be somewhere on time. 

Rubbing your eyes, you set a plate down and stare at the empty chairs beside you. That's right. You're alone, your parents are off to work. 

Once done whisking together a lovely omelet, you eat peacefully savoring every bit of silence. This was nice. 

You can do anything today. Maybe even go to the market and get yourself a little desert. Milk bread, curry donut, strawberry shortcake, whatever. Your mouth waters at the thought. 

Though rest sounds nicer still. 

That project wasn’t due till Tuesday, and it should take you about 2 days to complete alone, maybe 1 if you were going to meet up with Atsumu, but that wasn’t going to happen. 

Faceplanting into bed, you moan at the feeling of the bedsheets. They surround you like a heavenly cloud. Yes, this is what you needed, an escape into bliss. 

You wake up again at 12. 

Stretching wide, you exhale a yawn. A bath would do good now. Your hair probably wasn’t completely free of food anyway. 

You take off your shirt in front of the mirror, revealing a few bruises on your back, knees, and thighs. These most likely occurred when you fell to the floor a few times after being tripped. They're tender, but nothing too big. You didn’t want to think of it now anyway. 

The warm water envelops you and you draw out a whispered moan. You stay like that for who knows how long until you're aggressively scrubbing all the smells out of your hair. You lean against the rim, lids closing blissfully. 

The next time you open your eyes you feel groggy. You don't know what time it is. Your fingers and toes are all soggy, and the water isn’t hot anymore.

You drag yourself to bed after drying off, closing the door to seal the darkness in. A buzz vibrates your phone, and you pick it up, tiredly blinking at the brightness. It was probably your mom trying to see if you were okay. 

“When do you want to finish the project?” 

Why would your mom text that? 

You scroll to see the name Miya Atsumu, and you stare for what feels like a minute before finally gasping.

You didn't actually expect him to go for it and text.

What do you say? You begin typing, then stop, then start, then stop.

Tomorrow? The weekend? Monday? No day in reality makes a difference. You just don't want to work with him.

A part of you is relieved you wouldn't be doing the rest of the project alone, but another side is terrified at the idea.  

You bite your lip and write “Tomorrow..?" 

Maybe that was too direct, maybe you should’ve sent a "haha", or a "anytime that works for you."

What if he’s not available Friday? What if you just assumed? No no, it should be fine, he asked you, besides, it isn’t going to be a hangout, just a quick 1-2 hour session of working.

You groan, your brain going into circles. The anxiety that fled you today begins revisiting in vicious waves. You’re going to go to school tomorrow and he’d ask you the same question if you don't text back. You can’t avoid him, nor the deadline. The girls will pick on you again, you won’t be able to have lunch, you’ll be hungry, you’re about to be kicked off the volleyball team, everyone hates you, every-  a notification makes you blink to reality.

Miya Atsumu: “Sure. Time?” 

You let out a shaky exhale and type, “Whatever is fine with you.” 

Miya Atsumu: “6 pm, after practice.” 

6 pm?? That was a bit late.

You’re about to type a denial until you remember that you're the one who said whatever is okay. You can’t just complain now. 

“Sounds good.” 

He doesn’t respond. A few minutes pass and you’re still staring at the screen. Fretfully you type, “.. where.?” 

A bubble pops up, then disappears. You’re anxiously biting your lip, waiting. The bubble comes up again, jumping for a few seconds then going away. You hold your phone to your chest and groan, your other hand draping across your forehead. You hope it’s somewhere decent, really the scariest thing he can say is "My place."

A few tantalizing minutes pass and you hear a ding.

Miya Atsumu: "Wherever you want.” 

That response didn't settle your nerves at all. Why did you have to pick? 

Hovering over the letters on your phone, you think hard. 

Your place won't be as nerve-wracking as his, and besides it’d be weird if you text that anyway, like “Hey let’s go to your house.” Not only would you just be dealing with him but a duplicate as well. (Though you heard Osamu was a bit nicer.) Still, they probably live in some fancy house with a beautiful mom who makes amazing food. If he comes to yours he'd probably be judgemental as it was nothing lavish.

Where else could you pick? The library? It's a lot more peaceful and less scary than your house. Here, you imagine him, arms crossed, judging your stuffed animals and colorful sheets, saying, "What are you, a kid still?" 

A shiver runs down your spine. 

But in the library, Kiyoko and other girls are bound to be working on their projects as well.  

Nowhere was safe but your home, and besides you had your mother and father there if anything went wrong. Mustering up all the courage you write.

“You can come to my house..?” No that sounded too provocative. 

Holding the delete button, the sentence is wiped. 

“What about my house?” 

Too direct, what if it comes up rude or even flirty?

“We can go to the library?” No that sounds like you're avoiding the situation now. 

You hover over “Maybe-“ then delete. Too indecisive. “How about-“ too decisive. “What about-“ too shy.

It’s already been more than a few minutes and the phone buzzes impatiently.

Miya Atsumu: “Well?” 

The fear in your stomach is worse than when the girls would bully you. Which is ridiculous considering you're only sending a text. 

What if he shows it to all his friends and makes you a laughingstock? 

You ease your stammering. Relax (Y/n). No one can harm you here. You're not gonna hear his laughs directed at your face. You’re home in your safe space. It’s just you, and it’s just a text. 

"My house?" You press send and hold your breath. A minute passes and now the doubt explodes in you again.

God, why did you type that? That sounds way worse than the other ones, it's almost creepy even. You stuff your face into your pillow and groan loudly. 

A soft vibration takes you out of the self-loathing cycle, and it reads, Miya Atsumu: "Sure." 

Your heart pounds and anxiety floats into your stomach as you think of tomorrow.

You wish you used your sick day for then.

Although in the end, it wouldn't have made too much of a difference. It's bound to happen. At least you had until tomorrow to plan, to think what you were going to wear, and what spares you would bring for whatever was going to be dunked on your head. 

You hear the front door open and close. Your mom always gets home first. You're timidly stumbling down the stairs when she sees you. 

 "Hey, sweetie. Are you feeling better?" She hangs her jacket up and takes off her shoes. 

"Oh- Yeah.. um.. so.." your lips purse as she strides into the kitchen, already planning on dinner even if exhausted. You appreciate that. You just wish you had the guts to tell her what happened to those cooked meals at lunch. 

She grabs a pack of spaghetti and fills a large pot of water to boil. She raises an expectant brow.

"Yes?" 

You fidget, averting your gaze. "Um.. so I have a project due Tuesday… it's with a partner.. but our teacher is not allowing any more time in class. So-" 

"Oh okay, yeah, that's fine. When do you want her to come?" She grabs a few spices and herbs while talking, and you nervously clear your throat. 

"It's.. a guy.." She halts for a moment and you can see her mull over your words. 

You continue hesitantly, “So... he's coming tomorrow around 6, you know.. after practice usually ends." It's silent for a few seconds and you're pursing your lips, scared. 

There's a bright beam stretching her lips wide. 

Oh no, it was either this reaction or disgust. You didn't even know which you wanted. 

You start again, mainly to cut off whatever she was going to say. 

"By the way.. you don't have to pack lunch for these next few days." She raises a thoughtful look.

"Why? Have you been dropping it lately? Do you not like it? Is that you've been smelling like it when you come home?" 

Tensely giggling, you curl your hair behind your ear. "No Mom.. I just.." You trail off, unable to think of a perfect excuse. Nothing to resemble reality. Eventually, her lips curl again. 

"Ah.. so it's all to do with that boy."

What? 

You're surprised, rushing to stammer out a no, but she's set in her thoughts.

"I've been wondering why it's emptier than usual, you've been sharing it with him, hm?" She has that trail in her tone as if she caught you. 

"No! A friend has just been giving me some of there's so I haven't been able to eat mine." She laughs and your face is pink. 

"Ah I see, so you've been swapping lunches? How cute" You huff at this reasoning, giving up.

Maybe you should just let her believe this anyway. It'd make her happy.  

"Nothing’s happening with us Mom, we're just school partners. He's not even all that nice, you know," you mutter that last part to yourself. 

She snickers. "Men struggle with their emotions a bit more than we do when it comes to love-" 

You shout, "It's not love!" 

She waves her hand, gesturing for you to calm down. "Right right, well maybe he's just struggling to convey it to you." Huffing again, you cross your arms. That's not it. She's not listening to you, and you sigh angrily. Seriously, if only she knew. 

"I promise you, Mom, that's not it, just believe me okay? We're going to do the project and that's it, he won't be here ever again.." You pause, then point accusingly toward her. "And no being weird!" 

"Fine fine, I’ll act normal don't worry, I would hate to embarrass you in front of your crush." 

"Ugh, just.. no lunch tomorrow please!" 

You squeak out an awkward "thank you!" and she hums, a grin still lingering. 

Stomping off to your room, you lightly slam the door and stuff your face into the pillow. You could hear the front door open again, and you're sure your mother is now going to start talking about this mystery "crush" to your father.

You let out a frustrated sigh. 

[pandenewie]

34 - Where we went wrong

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As soon as Y/n’s final message comes through on Jungwon’s phone, the realisation of what just happened starts to settle into his brain. He promised himself he would never even speak to Y/n again, and yet here he is inviting them over to his house…

Holy shit. He just invited Y/n to his house. What the hell has he done?

Y/n hasn't come over since they first started dating… well "dating". Even then, they were only over for like 5 minutes and Jungwon had a mass panic-clean before they arrived. It’s a habit he’s picked up over the years whenever someone comes over, even if he knows they won’t care about a little mess. Jungwon knows Y/n especially won’t care, but that doesn’t stop him from quickly wiping down every surface of the house, making sure not a single spec of dust can be found.

The sudden sound of the doorbell causes Jungwon to jump slightly. It takes a second for his brain to register the fact that Y/n has, in fact, arrived. As soon as he fully comprehends this thought, he rushes down the stairs towards the front door - pausing to quickly check his reflection in the hallway mirror.

Jungwon’s not sure what to expect when he opens the door. It’s not like he had much time to prepare himself for Y/n’s arrival (and the time he did have was spent aggressively vacuuming the living room.) But he certainly wasn’t prepared for the instant flutter to the heart he felt at the sight of Y/n, standing at his doorstep in what appears to be their coziest outfit - pyjama pants, a cropped singlet and most importantly, his jacket.

“Hi.” Y/n smiles, trying not to laugh at the way Jungwon stares at them with wide eyes - as if he didn’t know they were coming. The atmosphere between the two is a little awkward, naturally, due to recent events and it takes Jungwon’s brain a few seconds to process the fact that Y/n actually spoke to him.

“Oh, hey. Come in.” Jungwon awkwardly laughs, stepping aside to allow space for Y/n to walk past him and into the house. He watches as Y/n slips off their shoes and takes a quick look around the room before turning back to Jungwon.

It’s quiet for a moment as the two stand in the entranceway of Jungwon’s home. “Did you clean for me?” Y/n asks, causing Jungwon’s face to immediately heat up. “I was… uh… already cleaning when we were texting so…” Jungwon lies. Y/n doesn’t believe him for a second but chooses not to pry any further. “Where did you want to work?” Y/n changes the topic, causing Jungwon’s eyes to widen.

That’s right… Y/n is over to help him do homework. He had been so focused on the fact that they were coming over that he forgot the reason why. “Um… my computer is in my room… if that’s okay?” He mumbles, absentmindedly pointing towards the stairs. Once Y/n agrees, they quietly follow Jungwon up to his room.

Y/n pauses in the middle of Jungwon’s room as he makes himself comfortable at his desk. Are they supposed to sit on his bed? They assume so, given the fact that there are no other chairs… but do they just sit without asking? Noticing their hesitation, Jungwon spins in his chair to look at them. “Oh… you can sit wherever you want.” He mumbles, aimlessly gesturing around the room. Smiling, Y/n makes themself comfortable on Jungwon’s bed.

From where they’re sitting, they get a pretty clear view of Jungwon’s screen. He already has his English work open but judging by the two short paragraphs Y/n can see, it looks like Jungwon still has a long way to go. “Uh… I’ll just… start this.” Jungwon says, pointing at his computer. Y/n nods, a little too enthusiastically. “Of course, let me know if you need anything.”

It’s awkward. Y/n knows it. Jungwon knows it. The sound of Jungwon’s fingers slowly hitting his keyboard is all that fills the silent room. Every few minutes, his eyes dart to where he can see Y/n in the reflection of his computer screen. They seem to be doing their own homework, with some sort of textbook open in their lap.

It’s weird to be in Y/n’s presence and yet have them sit so far away… Jungwon doesn’t like it. Glancing back at his work, he sees that he’s only written about 3 sentences since Y/n arrived. This isn’t working.

Sighing, Jungwon glances at Y/n once more. They’re not paying attention to him, too busy engrossed in whatever information their textbook is supplying. This is not how these “study sessions” used to go. Typically, the two would be sat side-by-side in the library - so close that their knees would touch. Jungwon’s focus would shift between his work and Y/n, whilst Y/n’s stayed completely on him. They’d rest their head on his shoulder, reading what he was writing and pointing out the occasional error. Sometimes, Jungwon would purposefully ignore a typo, just to see the teasing smile on Y/n’s lips when they pointed it out to him. He misses that.

Jungwon suddenly stands from his position at the desk - gaining Y/n’s attention as he does so. He unplugs his laptop and walks towards the bed. “The chair was hurting my back.” He lies, moving to sit next to Y/n. “Oh, okay. We can swap, then.” Y/n smiles, going to get up and move to the desk. Before they can move off the bed, Jungwon quickly grabs Y/n’s hand, pausing Y/n’s movements.

“Wait!... I mean… you don’t have to move.” Jungwon stammers out. It sounded a little more desperate than intended. “I’m trying to set boundaries, Jungwon… isn’t this what you want?” Y/n asks. It’s quiet for a moment as Jungwon processes their words. “I don’t know what I want.” Jungwon sighs. “I thought I wanted to never talk to you again but… I guess I was wrong. Then I thought we could just be friends but… I was wrong about that too.”

Y/n can’t help but roll their eyes at Jungwon’s words as they pull their hand out of his grip. Is this some sort of payback for the whole dress code thing? Stringing them along and giving them false hope? How are they supposed to figure out what to do if Jungwon himself keeps pushing and pulling them back and forth?

“Why did you invite me here?” Y/n asks, refusing to turn around and face him. Jungwon sighs again. “I want things to go back to how they were.” Y/n scoffs at this. “You know that can’t happen, Jungwon. Not after what I did to you.” Now it’s Jungwon’s turn to roll his eyes, as he turns Y/n around to face him.

“I don’t care about what you did to me. Maybe I deserved it. You were right about the dress code, everyone was. I should’ve helped you change it from the start but… I was too uptight and selfish to do it.” Jungwon frowns.

“Maybe uptight but I wouldn't say selfish… and maybe I could’ve been a little less… on your case… about the whole dress code thing.” Y/n mumbles awkwardly. Looking back, there are a lot of things they could have done differently with Jungwon. Not calling him pathetic (among other things) being one of them. “Honestly, I kinda needed that… I was a lot less tense when we were… you know…” Jungwon trails off.

Together.

Y/n smiles. “I get that… I mean, I got in a lot less trouble when we were…”

Together.

The two look at each other for a moment. Y/n can practically feel the way their heart jumps as Jungwon’s eyes flicker to their lips. How badly, they want to just step forward and press them against his in a gentle kiss. It’s been a while since they’ve kissed Jungwon, they’ve almost forgotten how it feels.

Coughing awkwardly, Jungwon takes a step back and Y/n feels their heart shatter ever-so-slightly. “I should do my work.” Jungwon mumbles, settling back into his position on the bed. “Right.” Y/n smiles but they don’t move. “Um… can you… sit with me?” Jungwon asks; his eyes nervous and sensing rejection. Y/n bites their lip and nods slightly before moving to sit up right next to Jungwon on the bed. They don’t relax into it like Jungwon does - far too nervous to do so. Instead, they keep a respectable distance from Jungwon and focus on their own homework.

Even with the small amount of space still between them, Jungwon feels much better than he did before. He knows that Y/n is still holding back from him - something that he is partially grateful for. He can tell how hard they are trying to be “just friends” and the thought puts a small smile on his face. It makes him think that this whole forgiving Y/n thing might be a lot easier than he originally thought.

Meanwhile, Y/n is battling with their own thoughts. They have no right to be upset at Jungwon for not forgiving them right away, but the way he sets boundaries and then stares at them like he’s going to kiss them is definitely confusing. Once again, Y/n has no right to be upset. They hurt him in so many ways, that the fact they are even in his room right now is a miracle. So Y/n will accept any closeness to Jungwon - no matter how confusing it may be.

Jungwon lets out a small groan, leaning his head back and hitting it against the wall a few times. This gains the attention of Y/n, who looks at him with concern. “Are you okay?” Y/n asks, quickly slipping their hand between Jungwon’s head and the wall - cushioning the impact. Their eyes widen as soon as Jungwon’s soft strands touch their skin, and they immediately pull their hand back. God dammit, Y/n. Think before you act.

As Y/n’s brain begins to spiral over the small touch, Jungwon repeats the minuscule moment over and over again in his. He misses Y/n’s touch, they used to play with his hair a lot. “I’ve just been reading the same part over and over again.” Jungwon whines slightly.

Y/n isn’t exactly sure what to do. Jungwon invited them over to help him study, help him focus. They know what they used to do in these situations but… that’s not exactly an option given their current relationship.

“You’ve got writer's block.” Y/n states simply, causing Jungwon’s eyes to snap from the computer screen to Y/n’s. “How did you know?” He asks, earning a smug shrug from Y/n. “I just know you like that.” Y/n jokes. “Also, you haven’t written anything in like, 10 minutes.” They add, making Jungwon sigh.

“I don’t know what else to write.” He mumbles, eyes closing slightly as Y/n’s hand comes up to play with his hair. “Well, staring at the page isn’t going to help.” Y/n mumbles, gently nudging their nose against Jungwon’s jaw.

Jungwon anxiously looks around the library - checking for any teachers or students who are paying attention to them. Seeing that the coast is clear, Jungwon immediately slips his hand down to wrap around Y/n's waist, turning to face them.

“Think I need to take a break.” He whispers, nuzzling his nose against Y/n’s. “Well… I have an idea for that…” Y/n smirks. They look up at him with playful eyes and bring their other hand to hook around the back of Junwon’s neck - pulling him closer until their lips are gently pressed together.

Yeah… Y/n definitely can’t do that. So instead, they settled for sitting cross-legged next to Jungwon, watching him cautiously as he shoves his head in his hands. “Do you need to take a break? You can finish this tomorrow, Jungwon.” Y/n says gently, frowning slightly as Jungwon shakes his head in his hands. “That’ll push back history… which will push back maths… which will mean I fail my maths test… which will mean I fail the class… which will mean I don’t graduate.” Jungwon mumbles out.

Realistically, none of that is going to happen. The worst that will happen is Jungwon will have to pull a few all-nighters and end up acing the test anyway. But Jungwon’s not much of a realist. 

“Okay, Won. Let’s just focus on today, hmm?” Y/n asks, moving closer so that they can see Jungwon’s laptop screen. “It’s only 7 pm… you’ve still got 5 hours left of the day. And look, you’ve almost written 1000 words!” Y/n says, pointing at the screen happily. Jungwon slowly lifts his head up to look at where Y/n is pointing. “Oh.” He mumbles, looking at the screen confused. Since when did he write so much? Last he checked, he was still on the second paragraph.

“See? You’re freaking out over nothing, babe.” Y/n says, the term of endearment slipping so naturally from their lips, that they almost didn’t realise they had said it. But judging by the way Y/n’s eyes widen, they definitely realise what they said. Jungwon’s eyes widen momentarily as well, but he tries to act as normal as possible - anything to not scare Y/n away.

“I guess I could take a break… when do you have to get home?” Jungwon asks, taking note of the time. “I don’t have a curfew, I told my parents I’d be at a friend’s till late.” Y/n shrugs. Jungwon nods at this, part of him relieved that Y/n doesn’t have to go home anytime soon. “Did you uh… wanna watch a movie or something? Then I’ll finish my work afterwards.” Jungwon offers. Y/n nods wordlessly as Jungwon begins to set up his laptop.

…

Are they supposed to move closer? Y/n can’t remember the last time they watched a movie with someone that didn’t involve cuddling in some way. Since that is something Y/n definitely doesn’t want to do, they’re currently in a dilemma.

Once everything is set up, Jungwon turns to look at Y/n. His eyes are almost hopeful, as he looks at them. Y/n can tell what he’s asking without him even opening his mouth. Sending a gentle smile towards him, Y/n moves to sit next to Jungwon - their legs touching slightly. Jungwon places the laptop on both of their laps before leaning back into the pillows he strategically placed. Noticing the way he gets comfy, Y/n decides to relax a little as well, as they turn their attention towards the movie that’s beginning to play.

Y/n still can’t remember the last time they watched a movie with someone that didn’t involve cuddling. As they feel themself begin to drift off, they realise that their head has fallen to Jungwon’s shoulder. Their body tenses slightly at the contact but slowly relaxes once they realise that Jungwon isn’t pulling away.

This is fine. Friends cuddle all the time. Except Y/n can’t help the way their heartbeat quickens at Jungwon’s familiar scent. They’ve always loved cuddling with him - the warmth of his body contrasting the coolness of their own. The way their head can lay perfectly indented in the crook of Jungwon’s neck, almost as if the spot was made just for them.

Before they know it, Y/n’s drifting off to sleep. Possibly the best sleep they’ve had in a while. Jungwon bites his lip in an attempt to stop a grin from spreading across his face. God, how he’s missed the feeling of Y/n cuddled up against him.

Once he’s sure that Y/n is fast asleep, Jungwon pauses the movie and switches back to his homework tab. With the weight of Y/n’s head on his shoulder, Jungwon suddenly feels more determined than ever. The words flow out of him so much easier, his fingers dancing along the keys of his laptop so much quicker. It’s as if having Y/n with him, like this, just makes him so much better.

Jungwon doesn’t think he’s finished a piece of homework so quickly. With Y/n still fast asleep on his shoulder, he takes the time to fully appreciate the moment. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever get to be with Y/n like this again, so he has to savour the feeling of their body pressed up against his.

He adjusts the pillow behind him slightly before moving to gently rest his head on top of Y/n’s. They stir for a moment, nuzzling their head further into his neck and mumbling a short sigh before drifting off once more.

As he begins to fall into a slumber himself, Jungwon can’t help but notice the fuzzy feeling in his heart. He doesn’t know what exactly is going to happen between the two when they wake up, but that can be tomorrow’s problem. Because, god, does he want this to never end.

There's nothing worse than waking up with a sore neck. Y/n learns this the hard way as they nuzzle further into their pillow, letting out a small whine of discomfort as the movement causes the muscles in their neck to spasm.

Shifting slightly again, they try to get more comfortable. Has their pillow always been this hard? They swore their parents got them a new one last month.

Suddenly it clicks… they were at Jungwon's last night. That makes more sense, Jungwon has shitty pillows. Their thoughts are interrupted by the feeling of something moving next to them, shifting their own position in the process. Opening their eyes in annoyance, Y/n suddenly realises exactly what has happened. Jungwon doesn't have shitty pillows, he is a shitty pillow.

Sitting up quickly, Y/n almost blacks out at the sudden rush of blood to their head. They look at Jungwon, who appears to still be asleep, with wide eyes. No wonder their neck is so sore, they were using Jungwon as a human pillow!

Noticing the sudden lack of warmth, Jungwon rolls over and attempts to pull Y/n back towards him. "Jungwon." Y/n whispers, gently pushing his hands away. He mumbles something incoherent and laces his fingers with theirs. "Jungwon, we have to get ready for school." Y/n sighs, making no move to separate their hands.

Jungwon's eyes slowly flutter open as he takes in his surroundings. His gaze lands on his and Y/n's intertwined fingers and he immediately freezes. Neither of them say anything, opting to just stare at their hands.

"Sorry." Jungwon mumbles, reluctantly pulling away from Y/n's grasp. "It's okay." They reply, biting their lip nervously. "Did I make you uncomfortable?" Jungwon asks, smiling slightly as Y/n immediately shakes their head. "No… well sleeping against your wall made me uncomfortable but… you didn't." Y/n points out, causing Jungwon to laugh. "Sorry… you fell asleep during the movie and I didn't want to wake you up." He says. He’s blushing slightly and Y/n can’t help but smile at the sight. "It's alright, I'll just be complaining about my neck all day."

The atmosphere is… weird. It’s not as awkward as it was last night but it’s not the most comfortable thing either. It’s almost as if they’re both unsure of how to act, waiting for the other to confirm what is and isn’t okay. It’s obvious that there are still lingering feelings… are they supposed to act like there isn’t? Are they supposed to pretend that they can be friends when deep down they both know it’s more than that? Neither wants to act out of fear of messing it up again, leaving them in an awkward middle ground. Both Y/n and Jungwon are completely unsure of where to go from here.

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[nofomogirl]

What we know and don't know after Good Omens S2

Honestly, it's mostly what we don't know.

This was originally meant to be an intro to Before the Beginning (part 1.5.) - a post in my series of posts discussing what we learn from the opening scene of S2 - but I've decided to make it its own thing after all.

I just enjoy reminding myself and others what we know for sure and what is just a theory or a headcanon. So here I go.

#1 The Fall

I've already written about the Fall shortly after S2 aired: Implications of Metatron's offer

My points still stand, except now that I think about it I might have put too much stock in Metatron's words. I think they prove less than I was willing to believe back then, as it's not difficult to imagine they might have all been a bluff.

In short: we don't know what the Fall is and how it actually works.

All that we know is that it happened once, and in the process, part of the angels were transformed and became demons.

The rest is just a long list of questions.

#2 Crowley's Fall

We're not much wiser when it comes to the circumstances of one specific Anthony J. Crowley's Fall.

Let's look at the very few facts we have:

In S1 Crowley claims that "he didn't really fall, he just sauntered vaguely downwards", "he only ever asked questions [and] it was all it took to be a demon", and "he didn't mean to fall, he just hung around the wrong people".

Neil Gaiman suggested more than once that Crowley isn't the most reliable narrator when it comes to his own Fall, and while he's not as bad as Heaven believes, he's also not as good as he thinks.

In Job's minisode, when Aziraphale is on the brink of questioning God's sense of justice ("Yes. But..."), Crowley tells him that was how it started for him too.

We learned from Furfur that Crowley actively took part in the dubious battle on the plains of Heaven just before the Fall.

In the finale, Metatron isn't the slightest bit surprised Crowley didn't take his offer and comments he "always did want to go his own way. Always asking damn fool questions too."

What does it all tell us? Nothing specific, except that perhaps we were a bit too quick to take Crowley's word that he hasn't done anything that would warrant any kind of punishment.

Questioning God's way of doing things was just how it STARTED for him. Asking damn fool questions was something he did TOO.

In short - we have no idea what really happened.

#3 Memory erasure

It's one of those popular headcanons that have been around at least since S1 and got canonically confirmed in S2.

We now know it's something that exists.

And that's where our knowledge ends.

Everything we really saw in the show was Gabriel getting sentenced to having his memories of being Gabriel removed. Then he very quickly moved his whole self to the fly to save it and we don't actually get to see what the result would be if Heaven did it. Would he be the same returned-to-factory-settings goofball or would he be given some memories to fill the blank spaces?

Is it actually possible to plant false memories in someone's head or can you only delete them?

Are memories really erased or just made inaccessible? Gabriel could still force himself to access some of his old memories. Was it because that's how it works and everybody could do it theoretically or was it because the memory-erasing procedure wasn't performed properly in his case?

We know it can be done remotely, but what is the range?

How precise and selective can it be? Gabriel was meant to forget everything. Perhaps that's the only way and you cannot pick and choose what one remembers or not.

We do not know.

#4 Aziraphale and Crowley's relationship

In S2 we have learned that they knew each other before the Fall. But all we saw was one meeting that appeared to be the first one to boot, judging by the fact that Aziraphale introduced himself.

We don't really know if they met again after that, how well they got to know each other, and how close they became.

It's not impossible, that when Aziraphale insists he knew the angel Crowley was, he's not even right about that...

#5 Aziraphale's and Crowley's memories

Last but not least, whatever Aziraphale and Crowley knew initially and whatever events they were part of or witnessed, we have no way of knowing what memories they've kept AND if they're even aware one or both of them might be missing something.

There may be important things that only one of them remembers but since I doubt they've ever compared notes, he operates under the wrong assumption that the other is aware of it too.

Anything is possible, really.

I've seen many convincing theories regarding all of the above and plenty of delightful headcanons. I'm just listing it to keep in mind all the questions remain open.

[gunilslaugh]

Treat You Right

Oh Seungmin

Summary: How could you be so blind to not see that Seungmin was the one who treated you right all this time?

WC:~1.4k

Warning:grammar

photo not mine credits to owner.

“Do I have a sign that says ‘cheat on me’ on my back?” You asked Seungmin once you returned to your shared apartment together. Seungmin and you have been friends for quite a few years now. The both of you moved in together three years ago. Over the course of those three years Seungmin has unfortunately been there to witness your heart getting broken over and over again. He’s always been the best at comforting you. He’ll hold you till your tears stop, share a tub of ice cream with you and watch whatever movie you wanted. Tells you that if you want him too he will go beat the guy into a pulp. 

“No,” Seungmin answers, slightly confused.

“Then why did I get cheated on again? That’s twice in a row. There must actually be something wrong with me. Maybe I’m not a good person to be in a relationship with,” you began to ramble, sinking onto the couch. You flopped over, conveniently landing your head in Seungmin’s lap. 

“What’s wrong with you is your taste in men,” Seungmin stated as he ran a hand through your hair.

“I- uh,” you weren’t expecting Seungmin to say that. “What do you mean?” You sat up from Seungmin’s lap and turned to face him.

“Have you seriously not picked up on that all the guys you date are some grade of asshole?” Seungmin points out. Were they? You took a moment to look back on your exes. Seungmin was right, all of them did turn out to be a certain degree level jerk.

“Why didn’t you stop me?” You scold him.

“I tried too, but you would insist that they weren’t actually like that. They were just a ‘little rough around the edges.’ That I shouldn’t be so quick to judge them.” he quotes your words. You went silent. How could you be so blind to all of this? It felt like you just received a very late wakeup call. 

“I’m so stupid!” You groaned, falling back into Seungmin’s lap. Seungmin’s hands patted your head.

“There, there. Now do you want to rant about how horrible your ex is now or should we do that over ice cream?” He questions. 

“Ice cream. Lots of ice cream,” you replied. At your words Seungmin got up and walked over to the freezer. He grabbed the tub of ice cream and two spoons then returned back to the couch. He handed you a spoon and thanked him. 

“Alright, tell me all about it,” Seungmin said after removing the lid to the ice cream. Your rant over your awful cheating ex comensed.

 A half tub of ice cream later you were feeling a lot better. 

“Thank you Seungmin. You’re the best,” you told him after you finished your ranting. 

“You know that I’m always here for you y/n,” he said as he stood up to put the ice cream away and wash the spoons. You thought about his words as he walked off to the kitchen. They were true, Seungmin was always there for you. In happy times, sad times, angry times, all of them. Seungmin always found a way to be there. Seungmin as the complete opposite of your exes. Maybe it’s time that you start seeing him in a new light. 

Over the next couple of days you began to realize that maybe you had been taking the way Seungmin treated you for granted. Thanks to this new light you were able to note things that you didn’t think much of or notice before. For example, Seungmin walks on the side of the sidewalk by the street. He will switch positions with you if you were originally on the side by the street. He knows all your favorite drink orders, foods, snacks and he will buy them for you, sometimes simply just because he wants to. He always opens doors for you too. If you’re in a crowded space he keeps a hand on your lower back or arm. You’re the first person he tells all his news to, no matter how big or small it is he wants to share it with you first. 

It’s been two months since you started seeing Seungmin under a new light. It’s been one week since you realized that you like him romantically. Today was your friend’s birthday and you went for a few drinks to celebrate. It’s safe to say you ended up having a little too much to drink, so you had to call Seungmin to come pick you up.

“Seungmin!” You said happily once he answered the call. “Can you come pick me up?” You asked him. Seungmin could tell by the sound of your voice that you were drunk. 

“I’ll be right there. Don’t go anywhere,” he tells you.

“Ok,” you replied. Seungmin laughed at how obedient you sounded. 

Seungmin arrived soon after and being the kind soul that he is he also gave your friends a ride home. 

“Y/n, you hold on to that one he’s a good one,” your friend drunkenly told you as they exited the car.

“I know, I’m gonna keep him with me forever,” you proclaimed, leaning over to hug Seungmin’s arm. Seingmin knew you were drunk but your words and actions made his heart skip a beat. Thought maybe you finally realized that he has been right in front of you all along. 

After dropping off your friend the two of you got back to your apartment. Seungmin helped you with your shoes. Once he got you into bed he wished you goodnight and turned to leave, but you grabbed his arm, halting him. 

“You treat me better than all my exes combined, you know,” you mumbled out. 

“Y/n go to sleep. We can talk in the morning,” he goes to pull your hand from his arm.

“No, no I’m serious. I don’t know how stupid I was or what rock I was living under to see that the perfect boyfriend has been right beside me,” you continued.

“You’re drunk, just go to bed,” Seungmin doesn’t want to get his hopes up.

“I’m moderately tipsy. I would say all of this sober if I had the courage,” you factually stated. 

“Then tell me tomorrow when you are sober,” he told you.

“But-” you started.

“No buts. Time for bed,” he places your arm back under the cover, re-tucking you into bed. “We’ll talk in the morning,” he says before leaving you. 

The morning came and your head hurt. This is why I shouldn’t drink you thought. You got out of bed walking sluggishly to the kitchen. Seungmin was already awake and making the two of you breakfast.

“I put painkillers on the table for you,” he tells you once he notices your presence. 

“Thank you,” you say, walking over to the table to take them. After taking them you sat at the table. Memories of last night started filling your mind. “I don’t know how stupid I was or what rock I was living under to see that the perfect boyfriend has been right beside me,” you remembered your somewhat drunkenly confession to Seungmin. You felt flushed as your cheeks reddened with embarrassment. You didn’t say anything that wasn’t true, but that’s definitely not how you wanted to tell Seungmin. 

Seungmin comes over with plates in hand, setting them on the table. 

“About last night,” you began to talk.

“Don’t worry about it, you were drunk,” Seungmin responds. 

“No, what I said was true. I don’t know why I never noticed I had the perfect one for me right beside me all these years. You are better than all my exes combined too. Everything I said last night was true,” you admitted. 

“Are you being serious right now?” Seungmin couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Why would I joke about this?” You answered. 

“You have no clue how hard it was all these years for me to see you be with asshole after asshole. I wanted nothing more than to be the one to treat you right,” Seungmin reveals.

“Then do you still want to be?” You checked. 

“More than anything,” he answered sincerely. 

“Then be the one and let me treat you right too. I’ve realized that I’ve kinda been taking you for granted in the past,” you say. 

“Doesn’t matter, as long as I get to be with you now,” Seungmin states, taking a loving hold of your hand. You smiled and scooted your chair closer, so that you could rest your head on his shoulder. 

“Let’s go on a date later,” you suggested and Seungmin couldn’t be happier, neither could you.

[dindjarin-mandalorian]

Broken Hearts and Laser Guns (Yondu x Reader)

A/N: This is one of several completed Yondu fics I wrote a few years ago and found sitting forgotten in a folder on my laptop a couple of months back, and I'm slowly making my way through them to get them all posted eventually. I'm not going to do much editing (just a glance-through to find glaring typos), and I feel like my writing has improved since then, but hopefully they'll be enjoyed. :)

Summary: Reader gets their heart broken and Yondu offers some advice.

Warnings: I don't think there are any, but if I've missed one, just let me know. It's a bit angsty due to a breakup, but nothing too intense.

You peeked your head around the door frame of one of the lounges in the Avengers compound, making sure no one was inside. Breathing a sigh of relief when you confirmed that it was indeed empty, you walked inside and collapsed on one of the couches, scrubbing your face with your hands.

You wanted nothing more than to go to your room, lock the door, and cry in private, but that was out of the question. You still had work to do and you didn’t want to let the rest of the team down just because you were heartbroken. You’d take a quick break to pull yourself together, and then try to focus on work for the rest of the day.

Dating someone who also worked in the compound had seemed like a good idea in the beginning, but after the breakup you quickly realized why it was, in fact, a terrible idea. You wished you could avoid your partner – well, ex-partner – completely, but knew you’d bump into them sooner or later. Sooner, with your luck.

You looked up toward the ceiling, doing your best to keep the tears from streaking down your cheeks. All you needed was for someone to find you crying in the lounge. The Avengers compound held a modicum of professionalism, but news about breakups and broken hearts traveled fast, and you really didn’t want to have to deal with any useless, however well-meant, sympathy from your co-workers.

You heard footsteps coming down the hallway and quickly brushed a couple of lingering teardrops from your bottom lashes, hoping that whoever it was didn’t come into the lounge.

A man strode past, glanced inside, then took a step back so he could lean against the door frame, a look of concern on his blue face. “Somethin’ wrong, Y/N?”

You shook your head and tried to muster a smile. “I’m fine, Yondu, thanks. What are you doing here?”

Yondu pushed away from the door frame with his shoulder, then joined you on the couch. “Me an’ Kraglin are gonna help out with a mission. Tha Avengers needed somebody who could get into some shady space ports, an’, well…”

He shrugged, flashing you a quick grin, and you gave him a small smile in return.

“Well, it’s good to see you.”

“You, too. But ya ain’t foolin’ me by sayin’ yer fine.” He nudged you with his arm. “Out with it.”

You sighed. You couldn’t say that you and Yondu were particularly close, but you’d spent time with him occasionally in the past when he and the other Guardians would show up at the compound for one reason or another.

And you had to admit, talking to someone who wouldn’t judge you sounded nice.

You took a steadying breath then said, “I got dumped today.”

You tried to brush it off with a shrug, but you felt your chin wobble and knew you weren’t going to make it through this conversation without crying. You avoided looking at Yondu’s face, and instead studied your boots, which were intensely interesting all of a sudden.

“Ah, damn. Hate ta hear that, Y/N. Their loss, though.”

You huffed a sardonic laugh. “Yeah, sure.”

“I mean it.”

You shook your head, still avoiding looking in his direction. “I just don’t understand what happened. I thought we were fine, you know?”

Your traitorous eyes began to leak again and you angrily brushed the tears away.

“Yeah, that always makes it harder, when it seems ta come outta nowhere.”

You gave a small nod, now focusing on your hands. You didn’t trust yourself to speak, and Yondu seemed to understand.

“Gotta say, I ain’t been dumped in a while, but that’s only ‘cause I ain’t been in a relationship in a while. Reckon I remember how bad it hurts, though.”

“It does.”

“Feels like tha world’s endin’ when ya lose someone.”

You nodded again, brushing another tear away.

“’Specially when ya don’t know what happened.”

“I just… don’t understand.” Something shifted and you couldn’t hold your tears in any longer. “What did I do wrong?”

“Sure ya didn’t do nothin’ wrong.”

“Then why?” Your voice broke on a sob and you finally met his eyes. “Why wasn’t I good enough, Yondu?”

You began to cry in earnest, leaning forward and resting your face in your hands. You tensed up for a moment when Yondu draped an arm over your shoulder and pulled you to his side, then relaxed against him, giving in to the tears.

“Listen ta me, Y/N. Yer good enough, ya hear me? If they couldn’t see that, then that’s on them. Sometimes folks jus’ ain’t meant ta be together. Don’t mean somebody ain’t good enough, just means ya ain’t tha right fit.”

You cried harder. “But I thought we fit! I thought we were fine!”

“I ain’t gonna tell ya not ta cry. Cryin’s good fer ya, so ya do it as long as ya need to. But I am gonna tell ya that ya need ta get the ‘good enough’ thoughts outta yer head. They ain’t true an’ they won’t do no good.”

You were crying too hard to form a reply, so you nodded. You knew he was right, but it still hurt and you couldn’t help the feelings of not being good enough. Why else would someone break up a seemingly good relationship?

“An’ as fer fittin’ an’ bein’ fine, maybe y’all did fit at first, an’ then maybe things changed fer ‘em. Life gets in tha way of these things, changes people, ain’t got nothin’ ta do with you. Ya need ta let ‘em go, let ‘em do what they need ta do. Tryin’ ta hang onto these things never works. Won’t make ya happy.”

You tried to catch your breath as you continued to cry, and hoped you wouldn’t start to hyperventilate. That was all you needed to make things even more embarrassing.

“I… I know. But it just… just hurts so much.”

“I know it does, darlin’. Just gotta let it hurt. Gotta get through it. One day yer gonna wake up and be okay, though.”

You gave an unbelieving huff as you tried to stem your tears.

“Yeah, didn’t think ya’d believe me, but it’s true. Ya listen ta ol’ Yondu. He knows what he’s talkin’ about.”

You sat up and lifted your head to look at him, wiping more tears away and wishing you had a tissue. “When did you get so wise, Captain?”

He grinned. “Always been wise. Don’t know why ya ain’t realized it before now.”

You hiccuped a laugh and used your sleeve to dry your eyes, even as a few more tears trickled down your cheek. “You’ve been hiding all that Ravager knowledge, I guess.”

“Guess so.”

“Ugh, I wish I had a tissue.” You knew your eyes were red and swollen so there would be no hiding this crying session when you finally left the lounge, but you at least wanted your face to be dry when you met up with your teammates.

“Oh, here.” Yondu removed his arm from around you and reached into an inside pocket of his duster, pulling out a grimy handkerchief and handing it to you.

You took it from him and gave a small laugh through the last of your tears. “It’s… dirty.”

“Yeah, well, I’m a Ravager. Might be good with advice about a broken heart, but I ain’t ever got a clean handkerchief.”

You laughed again, a little louder, as you handed it back to him, then dabbed your eyes gently with the sleeve pulled up over your hand. “Thanks, but I’ll just keep using my sleeves.”

“Suit yerself.” He grinned as he stuck the dirty handkerchief back inside his pocket. “Listen, I got an idea. We’re gonna go blow off some steam.”

You shook your head. “I can’t. I have to get back to work.”

“Come on, Y/N, when’s tha last time ya took off?”

You thought for a minute and realized it had been months since you’d taken a day off. “It’s been a while,” you admitted.

“They can get along without ya fer one afternoon. Tell ‘em yer sick an’ let’s go.”

“I can’t just lie and say I’m sick! They’ll have me in the sick bay within the hour.”

“Ain’t a lie! Yer heartsick, an’ they can’t put ya in tha sick bay if ya ain’t here. Come on, send ‘em a comm.”

You bit your lip, considering your options. “Fine.”

His grin widened as he watched you pull out your phone and send a quick email to your supervisor. It was true, they could do without you for one afternoon. There weren’t any pressing matters to attend to, and it was Friday, after all.

You slipped your phone back into your pocket. “Done. So where are we going?”

Yondu stood and held out a hand to help you up. “It’s a surprise.”

“I don’t really like the sound of that.”

“C’mon, trust me.”

Even though you knew you probably shouldn’t, you did.

You followed him outside to the airspace, but stopped walking when you realized he was heading towards his ship.

He noticed you were no longer beside him and turned back to you. “What’s wrong?”

“Are we leaving Earth?”

“Yep.”

“I can’t just leave the planet.”

“Who says?”

Realizing there was literally no one who could stop you from leaving the planet – something that you thought might have been an oversight that someone should have already considered – you shrugged and caught up with him.

A few minutes later, you were sitting next to Yondu in the co-pilot’s chair of the Eclector. You’d never been in space before and could hardly believe you were here now.

“So where are we going?””

“Told ya, it’s a surprise.”

“Leaving the planet isn’t enough of a surprise?”

“Nope.”

An hour later, Yondu set the ship expertly down in a landing field full of other ships, and the two of you stepped out into a brightly lit town. Apart from the fact that the buildings were definitely not constructed by anyone from Earth, it almost felt like a bustling city back home.

You followed Yondu to a small building, painted in vivid colors, and walked inside as he held the door for you. It took a moment for your eyes to adjust to the dimly-lit room, a contrast from all the brightness outside, and then you quickly caught up to Yondu as he strode to a counter on the other side of the room.

“Two, please.”

The man behind the counter, who had three eyes and whose skin was tinted a light purple, said, “Yes, sir. Will you require laser guns, or do you have your own?”

“Go ahead an’ give us a couple,” he said, sliding some credits across the counter.

The man nodded, reached under the counter and pulled out two laser guns, which he handed to Yondu. “You can go on in,” he said, indicating a door on the right. “The session isn’t full yet.”

“Thanks.”

Yondu handed one of the laser guns to you. “Ya ready?”

“For what?”

“Fer a laser gun battle.”

“Is this… is this like laser tag on Earth?”

“Yeah, somethin’ like that. General concept is tha same.”

“The general concept?”

“Yep.”

You stopped at the door. “Don’t we get the little vests with the targets?”

“Don’t need vests. We’re tha targets.”

“But how do we know who wins?”

“Whoever’s still standin’ at tha end.”

You looked at your laser gun in horror and spluttered, “Yondu, are these real laser guns?”

“’Course they are! Can’t protect yerself with fake ones.”

“Are you trying to get me killed? Because I guess that is a good way to make me forget about my broken heart.”

Yondu laughed. “Nah, we ain’t gonna die. I’ve seen ya at target practice, yer a natural. We ain’t got nothin’ ta worry ‘bout.”

“Yondu!”

“Ya really don’t wanna have a laser battle?”

“Not when the losers die!”

He grinned. “Fine. Then how ‘bout ice cream?”

You were speechless for a moment as you tried to comprehend his sudden shift from death in a laser gun battle to ice cream. “Ice cream sounds much… safer.”

“Then ice cream it is. I know this place over on -”

You raised a hand to stop him. “Can we please get ice cream back on Earth?”

He laughed. “You got it, darlin’.” Turning back to the man behind the counter, he asked, “Reckon we can get a refund on these guns?”

[queen-of-writing-bad-things]

Henry Danger Reader Insert | Captain Man x Reader: SEASON 2

Epsiode 14: Grave Danger

~The Man Cave~

(y/n) had decided that since Henry and Charlotte had been working so hard lately (and had been to an actual parallel universe and stuff) they deserved a treat. A trip to their favourite burger joint downtown on her, they could order whatever the hell they wanted and it was a blast!

The three friends were giggling and laughing with one another all the way down to the Man Cave and were so engrossed in their conversation, they only realised that something was wrong the second they stepped out of the elevator. 

For starters, Ray was sobbing and moaning and crying on the couch, looking completely miserable, probably because his underwear was stuck to the walls, everywhere. And I mean, everywhere; every wall had been target, every surface possible and Ray seemed pretty upset about it, making (y/n) drop her smile immediately and rush over to him. His sadness was her sadness and it broke her heart to see him like that.

"Ray, sweetheart, what's wrong?" She asked in her most comforting tone, as she and the kids tentatively stepped towards him. 

"Ray, why are you crying?" Henry added, but the sudden arrival of his friends made Ray sniff and dry his eyes as he didn't want anyone to see him cry, especially his sweet girl. She went and sat beside him, her hand reaching for his and it helped to stop his snuffling, even if he was still a bit teary. (y/n) studied his face as he refused to make eye contact. It was killing her to see him hold back his emotions in front of her, she wanted him to be as honest and open because she'd never judge him.

"Yeah, and why is your underwear stuck all over the place?" Charlotte asked, frowning at the sight of the new "wall ornaments". 

(y/n) gulped as she too took a quick look around, but scolded herself when her filthy mind started to drift onto something else. Give her a break, it's not like she would ever get to see his underwear, he did that part of his laundry on his own and she'd never get with him, so she might as well look while she can.

"I don't know!" He wailed, bursting into floods of tears again, causing his girl to grab a tissue from her purse and dab his soggy cheeks. 

"Oh, Ray..." She whimpered, feeling like his emotions were rubbing off on her. All she wanted to do was kiss it all better.

"Come on, buddy. I promise, we'll figure out who did this to your underpants and we'll get them." Henry said, swearing revenge on whoever pulled such a mean prank on his boss. No one deserved this kind of humiliation, especially not when they were living with and trying to impress a pretty girl.

"No, don't you see?" He sniffed as the kids sat down, his heart pulling in two different directions as (y/n) placed a tender hand on his knee and put her arm around his shoulders. He was loving her touch and was so grateful for her attempts to comfort him, but he also felt...silly. His underwear was on the walls all around and here he was blubbering in front of her and needing her to make him feel better. What kind of protector does that?

"Ray, what don't we see?" Her honeyed voice asked gently, trying to soothe him but rubbing small circles on his back and squeezing his knee.

"I did this. I did it all by myself." He told them in a shaky voice, wailing as his emotions got the best of him. 

"But why?" Charlotte question, wondering what had driven him to do such a thing in a communal living space.

"You tell me! I took a nap, right here, waiting for (y/n) to get home safely and when I woke up, this bottle was in my hand and the underwear was stuck all over the place." Ray cried, not seeing how (y/n) melted at his confession. He always waited up for her or stuck around until she got home and never failed to make her smile softly to herself. It made her feel special.

"Okay, okay, maybe you were just sleepwalking," Henry suggested, having heard loads of stories online of people doing crazy stuff whilst sleeping.

"Maybe. 'Cause, this isn't the first time something like this has happened." Ray revealed, making his best friend look at him with a confused, pointed look. Say what now?

"What? Raymond, what haven't you told me? What's happening?" She asked, shifting her body so she could look directly at his face and nothing else. He couldn't meet her eyes, he hadn't lied to her per se, but he didn't tell her about all the stuff that had been happening lately either. He just didn't want her to worry, her nerves were so fragile so he thought it best to keep it bottled up.

"The other night, I woke up at four in the morning and do you know what was in the bed with me?" He asked the kids as his stomach twisted from the intense gaze (y/n) was giving him.

"Was it Schwoz's pig?" Charlotte asked, knowing that it liked to roam around the Man Cave. Her first guess was actually (y/n), but she figured that if she said that, she'd have to watch the couple melt into goo. Yeah, they often crashed in Ray's room because of the luxurious mattress and the fact that they always slept better together, but that didn't mean anything, right?

"I wish. But no, I woke up and I found myself lying in my own spaghetti." He said in a distraught voice, but the explanation puzzled everyone.

"I'm sorry, what?" Henry asked, thoroughly confused with what he had said. He woke up in bed with spaghetti?

"Wait, are you talking about that big pot of spaghetti we made earlier that morning?" (y/n) asked as she turned around to watch him frantically pace next to the auto-snacker. 

"Yeah, and when I woke up, it was all around me in my bed...there were meatballs in my pyjamas." He confessed, putting his hand over his mouth to keep in his sobs. (y/n) reached up to him as he leaned on the back of the couch and softly stroked his head, hating how wobbly his bottom lip was. He was just thankful that she hadn't been snoozing with him or she'd have been spaghettied too and he was certain she'd never had gone in his room again. 

"All right, just calm down," Charlotte told him in a flat voice, not knowing how to handle the emotional man. Thank God they had (y/n), she was the expert, but even her knowledgeable hand couldn't keep him completely calm.

"I can't calm down! I'm losing it. I put things down and when I look for them, I can't find them. And I'm losing my balance too, I keep tripping over things that aren't there. I'm falling down for no reason. Oh, look at my underwear, it's on the walls! That's not where underwear should be." Ray rambled himself into a frenzied mental state, his panic locking him into the mindset that he was crazy, which made (y/n) whimper at how upset he was.

"All right...whoa, whoa, (y/n) get over here!" Henry called for backup as he spooked his boss as he laid a hand on his shoulder to snap him out of the trance and the boy knew Ray needed his girl at this crucial moment.

"Okay, okay. Hey, hey, yeah, you're all right, sweetheart. Now, listen to me, I want you to go to your room..." The young woman dashed over and put both hands on Ray's cheeks, making his terrified eyes look into that familiar (y/e/c) colour that was her gentle gaze. 

"Okay." He agreed, feeling much better now that his girl was with him. 

"...right now, and take a long nap." She told him, her expression getting all confused again when his face contorted in pain. What now?

"There's spaghetti in my bed." He whined sadly, dropping his head into the crook of her neck so he could try and use the scent of her perfume to calm himself down. And it gave him a good excuse to feel her soft skin against his as his arms wrapped around her waist and lifted her to her tiptoes as he hugged her tightly.

"Okay, easy, easy, now. I'll go clean your bed and you can sleep in mine, 'kay?" She told him softly, absent-mindedly brushing her fingers through his hair and his hiccuping and choked sobs slowed down.

"But that's your bed, I'll get my smell on it." He whined, thinking that whilst he loved to smell her shampoo on his pillows for days after she had fallen asleep next to him, it didn't necessarily mean she felt the same. He'd die before he made her feel uncomfortable in his home.

"Doofus, I don't care, please just take a nap in my room." The young woman insisted, hoping that she'd be able to smell his cologne on her sheets. She'd sleep so much better if he did.

"Okay, I'll sleep in (y/n)'s room." He mumbled to himself, walking off towards the sprocket, but when he tried to go up the stairs, he tripped over nothing, just like he had described. Weird. 

"Did one of you three just push me?" He pointed a shaking finger at his friends, who looked slightly offended at the accusation. Did he really think they'd do something so cruel?

"No, we were right here." Henry and Charlotte stuttered, feeling utterly confused about what was going on.

"Wahhhhh, what's happening to me? I'm a disaster!" Ray hiccuped as he crawled up the steps, only to burst into more tears when he somehow tripped up the stairs again. God, this was difficult to watch, particularly when he blew his nose on a pair of his underpants. 

"Okay, you clearly need some assistance." (y/n) sighed and jogged up to the sprocket, and knelt down on the floor next to Ray, who had once again tripped over and was now lying flat on his back. She gazed down at him softly, putting her hand into his. She didn't know what was wrong, but she wanted to help him through it, no matter what.

"What am I going to do with you, Ray Manchester?..." She trailed off at the end when she could've sworn that a puff of warm air was breathed down her neck. She shivered in fear, but when she turned around, there was nothing or no one there. Okay, that's it, the Man Cave is haunted.

"(y/n/n), what's wrong?" Ray asked her when she didn't speak for a minute and frowned when he saw her anxiously looking around the room.

"Nothing, it's nothing. Come on, let's go have a nap." She dismissed his concerns quickly, thinking that the strange phenomenon was probably her mind playing tricks on her. A very mean trick, but a trick nonetheless. The couple sloped off to her room so they hide under the safety of her blankets, leaving Henry and Charlotte alone with their boss's underwear. One thing's for certain, Charlotte wasn't going anywhere near it, so it looked like Henry was the one tasked when prising it from the walls.

~Later that day~

Well, things were still a mess at the Man Cave. Ray was a nervous wreck and it was starting to affect (y/n) too. She could swear that there were eyes on her at all times, but there was no one else around. The thought just made her shiver, she was in the Man Cave with her not-boyfriend, where she was safe. No need to panic.

"Hey, sup?" Henry greeted Schwoz, Charlotte and (y/n) at the supercomputer as he strolled in from the elevator. Charlotte had told him to get his ass to the Man Cave asap because she believed that she had found something to explain why all the weird crap was happening. Sure, Henry had to stop watching Dog Judge and leave Jasper to play with his walkie-talkies by himself, but he was too curious and too kind not to help out his boss.

"Hello, Henry." Schwoz smiled at him warmly as (y/n) nervously bit her bottom lip. She had left Ray to nap in her bed and had made sure to check the room for anything suspicious, but she couldn't see anything.

"Hurry, come on." Charlotte encouraged the young boy over to the monitor.

"Did you figure out what's wrong with Ray?" Henry asked worriedly as he patted (y/n) on the back. She looked so stressed, hopefully, if they could help Ray, they could help her too.

"I don't think anything's wrong with Ray." The young girl told them, making (y/n) frown. 

"Come again?" She asked. It wasn't like she thought her best friend was crazy, but she wanted an answer that her scientific mind could get behind.

"Check this out. You're about to see the security camera footage from two days ago, here in the Man Cave." Charlotte told them as she played a video of Ray working out. Not a bad thing for (y/n) to watch, she loved to see him work out, flexing his muscles and being all macho.

But the video wasn't particularly hot, it was sort of sad because they watched as Ray lifted the extremely heavy weights, but when he went to sit on the bench, it slid underneath him and he fell on the floor. 

"Poor Ray." (y/n) whispered to herself, feeling her heart ache as she heard him groaning in pain on the video.

"Now, watch in slow-mootion," Schwoz told her and Henry in his funny accent, making them look at him weirdly.

"Slow-motion." Henry corrected him, sounding out the "oh" in the middle, which turned into a mini-lesson as Henry tried to get him to say it properly.

"For god's sake, just play the clip in slow-mootion." (y/n) said, ignoring the boys and their silly talk. She just wanted to see what was so weird about this video.

"Now, watch when I zoom in on the bench," Charlotte told them and they all gasped when they saw the bench slide to the left as if by magic. Wait a second...

"Whoaaaa, it looked like that bench moved by itself." Henry breathed out, not seeing how (y/n) had begun to sweat and hyperventilate next to him. She had a sneaking suspicion where this was going and the thought made her sick. After all, benches don't move by themselves.

"Yeah." Schwoz agreed, as the young woman rubbed her trembling hands together and tried to take some deep breaths. Ray, she needed Ray.

"Okay, what's going on here?" Henry asked, no one hearing the superhero approaching the sprocket.

"Well, I think it might be—" Charlotte tried to tell them, but Ray interrupted as he appeared in the room. All of his friends were together, huddling in a circle and probably talking about him, this didn't feel good to him.

"Hey, I thought I heard you guys. What are you doing here so late—Argh!!!" Ray screamed as he took a nasty tumble from the sprocket opening, down the stairs and ledge and onto the floor by the supercomputer. He groaned in pain as his helper swallowed her nerves and ran to his side, helping him up with shaking hands.

"Oh my god, Ray..." She breathed out at him instinctively scanning him for injuries, even though he was the indestructible Captain Man.

"What is wrong with me?" He asked his friends sadly as Henry and Schwoz assisted in pulling him to his feet. (y/n) grabbed hold of his hand to settle her anxiety, but she was still afraid as to what Charlotte was gonna say.

"Well, I think you're problem could be...Invisible Brad." Charlotte revealed, making Henry and Schwoz gasp as (y/n) glued herself to Ray's side in terror, her hands tightly clutching his shirt as she pressed herself into his chest and his arms came to curl around her trembling form.

"No, no, no, not him, anyone but him." She whimpered into his shirt as she screwed her eyes shut and tried to forget everything that Brad had done to her and her friends in the past. 

"Pfffft, what? No way, Invisible Brad is dead! He got hit by a bus, I went to his funeral, so stop worrying, sweet girl." Ray scoffed as he cradled the terrified girl in his arms, hoping he could convince her that she was safe. He wouldn't let anything happen to her, he had promised himself that that bastard would never hurt her again.

"Well, did you see him at the funeral?" Henry asked, mocking the way he had spoken the words whilst holding his girl. She was still squishing her face into his chest so it's not like she saw anything anyway.

"Yes, it was an open casket. I walked right up and looked inside." The large man told them, thinking that this theory was whack, but (y/n) had something to say about that.

"Oh, yeah? What did you see in the casket, doofus?" She questioned in a small voice, briefly looking up at him despite her instincts telling her to run and hide. It's not like Brad could injure her anymore, but he was still the creepiest dude she'd ever met, so she would never feel safe with him around.

"Nothing," Ray said softly, stroking her back with a large, warm hand. It was his go-to technique for getting her to calm down.

"Ah-ha!" Charlotte cried at the revelation. She knew that Brad was back, she just needed her friends to believe her, then they could deal with him once and for all.

"Well, he's invisible." Ray rolled his eyes, still not convinced that Brad was who they were dealing with. He believed (y/n)'s fear was genuine, but he also thought that she had been led on by Charlotte's wild theories.

"And creepy, don't forget that bit." (y/n)'s muffled voice said against his chest, making him let out a breathy chuckle as she decided that she was safe, for now, and pulled away. She still stayed close to him though, choosing to hug his arm instead.

"Maybe, Invisible Brad is not dead." Charlotte proposed, making the woman whine again. The world just seemed a whole lot scarier with her stalker back on the streets.

"All right," Ray said, knowing that he had to see this for himself. He pressed a kiss to his girl's head and she slowly released his arm from her iron grip, even if she didn't want to see him go. He had to do what he had to do.

"What are you gonna do?" Charlotte asked as (y/n) folded her arms around herself. She wasn't sleeping tonight that's for sure.

"We're going to the Swellview cemetery," Ray said, although he pronounced cemetery wrong.

"Ce-met-ery." Henry corrected him, thinking that his way of saying the word was just plain wrong.

"Well, both pronunciations are acceptable. Ray argued, not wanting to let this one go.

"Well, I think you're wrong." The boy retorted, making Schwoz and Charlotte roll their eyes with (y/n). Children, they worked with children.

"White shadow to sweet kumquat, white shadow to sweet kumquat, over?" Henry's hand flew to his pocket as Jasper's voice came from his walkie-talkie. He really picked his moments.

"Here, Charlotte. You talk to Jasper." Henry chucked the walkie-talkie to his friend as he and Ray chewed their gum.

"Uh, hang on, Jasper." The girl spoke into the device, hoping that Jasper was listening.

"Yeah, sweet kumquat is busy." (y/n) chuckled as Henry glared at her, but let it go since he was relieved to see her laughing and joking around. If Brad was behind this, he would make sure he wouldn't scare his best friend.

"Let's go, kid." Ray nodded to Henry once they had transformed into their super suits. They ran to the tubepad and slapped their belts, but Charlotte didn't want to be stuck with Jasper on the radio all day.

"Wait...catch!" She smirked as she threw the walkie-talkie back to Henry.

"No, no, Charlotte, you keep the walkie-talkie." Henry stuttered as he tried to throw it back, but it was too late the tubes had already been lowered and they were seconds from lift-off.

"Good luck." (y/n) smiled at Ray sweetly as his face disappeared up the tube. She prayed that he was right; Brad being alive spelt only one thing: trouble.

~Swellview Cemetery~

So, Ray had decided that he didn't feel like doing any digging that evening, so he had left Henry to do all the hard work. Yep, the poor kid had to shift six feet of dirt to get to Brad's coffin and he was starting to get pissed off at how Ray was just lying next to the hole, snacking.

"Wow. Look at the stars. You ever just look up at the stars and think, hey stars, I'm better than you?" The superhero mentioned as Henry shovelled the last of the earth to the side. He couldn't give a crap about the stars, he just wanted to sit down.

"Okay, I've finished." He panted, letting his exhausted arms have a break. Man, he was beat.

"What? You're done digging?" Ray asked in surprise, his voice garbled from his mouthful of food.

"Yeah, I'm done digging. All by myself, while you laid there, looking at the stars and stuffing your face with fruit grapes!" Henry hissed at his boss, chucking the shovel to the side angrily.

"Who calls them fruit grapes?" Ray scoffed, thinking that you don't say "fruit apple" or "banana fruit".

"I do," Henry told him, not seeing anything wrong with the way he spoke.

"Well, it's weird." Ray retorted, his jibes not helping Henry's irritated mood. He wouldn't like it when the kid snitched to (y/n) that he was being a dick.

"Whatever. The deal was I dig the dirt, you lift Brad's casket out of the hole." Henry reminded him of when they shook on the deal. He was strong for a boy of his age and size but he wasn't so strong he could lift a well-built, sturdy coffin. Plus, he found the idea of touching someone's resting place a bit spooky.

"All right. Move." Ray nodded a stood up and at the same time, revealed that he had brought along a little gadget to help him lift the casket. He didn't want to do any work, he'd been having a hard time lately, he didn't want to strain himself more.

"Whoa, man. You brought the anti-grav?" Henry asked his boss as he recognised the glowing stick. Ray kneeled and locked it to the casket, switching the device on so he could easily lift the immense weight.

"Yeah." He grunted as the coffin floated up, feeling no heavier than a feather.

"Wait, I just spent two hours digging a six-foot deep hole and now, all you gotta do is lift the casket with the anti-grav, which takes no effort?" Henry frowned at the devious superhero, who had already placed the casket on the grass next to the hole.

"Yeah," Ray smirked, thinking that he had just been smart. Why work when there's an easier solution?

"I had to struggle and you just laid there and daydreamed about (y/n) and her eyes and her butt and other gross stuff..." Henry cringed and shivered as he imagined Ray's thoughts, traumatising himself into feeling a bit nauseous. 

"Shut up!" Ray blushed at his sidekick's words, feeling like he had been caught out. He couldn't help it if his filthy mind often drifted to his girl and her...finer features. He wanted her, even if he could never have her.

"Anyway, you ready?" The superhero cleared his throat and looked at the coffin. This was gonna get creepy, but then again, Brad always made things creepy.

"I guess." Henry swallowed his fear and stepped to the coffin so they could both lift the lid. They groaned from the strain, but they finally got it open, peering inside to see...nothing. Well, duh, he was invisible, looks like they'd have to reach in and check somehow.

"We should...feel inside." Henry stammered, not wanting to be the one to feel a human skull if Brad really was in there.

"You feel inside," Ray instructed his sidekick, also not wanting to stick his hand in something as unnerving as the place where a dead person was laying.

"Okay, okay, the first one to say "not it", doesn't have to feel inside, so—" Henry was cut off as Ray said the magic words, leaving it up to Henry to do the deed. Ah, geez, he didn't get paid enough for this.

"Okay, we'll both feel inside." Ray proposed, neither of them seeing how Brad had picked up Henry's shovel and was stalking towards them. So he was alive, oh god...

"Okay." Henry nodded and they both bent over to reach in, but they nearly died from shock as a sinister voice called out behind them. 

"Looking for me?" Brad asked rhetorically, his voice full of hate and revenge for Captain Man, the man who ruined his life and took away the girl he wanted.

"Ahhhhh!" Ray and Henry screamed in terror as they felt the nearby air to see if Brad was around them, but they were caught out as he whacked them from behind with the shovel. They both fell into the coffin and Brad chuckled evilly as he closed the lid. 

"Nighty-night." He quipped as the lid closed and Henry and Ray banged on the wooden walls. It was claustrophobic in there, to say the least.

"Yeah, nail, nail, nail, nail, nail...and now, I'll just lift up the casket and down you boys go. Have a nice rest of your lives, jerks. Hope you're comfy in there." Brad chuckled maniacally as he nailed the coffin shut, lifted it back into the hole and began to replace the dirt that had been dug out. Oh, shit.

"I think Charlotte was right. Invisible Brad is alive." Ray whispered to Henry as they lay next to each other in the cramped space. His heart was beating rapidly as he realised that with Brad back, (y/n) wasn't safe and that terrified him more than the situation he was in.

"What was your first clue?" Henry asked sarcastically, annoyed that he was trapped in there with Captain Genius. Ray nudged his arm in frustration as they heard Brad chuck shovelfuls of dirt onto the box they were stuck in and they both gulped. This wasn't good at all.

"Brad, Brad, this isn't funny!" Ray banged against the "ceiling", but his pleading fell on deaf ears. Brad didn't care if they were freaking out, he wanted to take his sweet revenge.

"Just a little more...one more scoop. Oh, that's pretty." Brad dropped the shovel as he admired his work. With Captain Man and Kid Danger out of the way, he could now carry out the second part of his plan.

"See ya, ballerinas! I'm off to see my girl. Oh yeah, that's right, Ray. With you gone, (y/n) is gonna need a new boyfriend and I'll be the one she turns to." Brad taunted the large man, who had started to furiously pound against the box with Henry.

"No, wait, Brad! Come back!" Henry yelled at the top of his voice, hoping that by some miracle, the deranged guy would let them out.

"Brad! Come back here, I mean it! Don't you dare touch her!" Ray growled as his rage began to burn at the thought of the man comforting his girl and stealing her away. Not that she'd ever go for him, he knew she hated him and the idea of him closing in on the Man Cave made his blood boil and heart hurt. Yes, she wasn't physically vulnerable, but Brad was unpredictable and wouldn't stop at any length to take away the woman he loved.

Not being able to see in the pitch black, Ray panted and strained, but managed to get a light above their heads.

"At least now, we can see." He said, struggling to get air into his body as the supply became limited. They couldn't stay in here for very long, well, Ray could because he was indestructible, but Henry would die after a few minutes.

"What are you doing?" Ray asked as he felt the boy wriggling and squirming next to him. He realised how nice it was to have your own space as he struggled to move in the tiny box.

"I'm trying to get my phone," Henry told him and Ray nodded at the good idea. 

"Oh, yeah, I'll get mine." The man reached down to his utility belt and struggled to unclimbed his phone. Even if he couldn't call for help, he at least wanted to tell (y/n) to get herself to safety before Brad could reach the Man Cave.

The two began to argue as their movements restricted one another and they complained as they grasped their phones, but couldn't find the room to pull them out. Geez, this was sucky.

"I'm first in seniority." Ray snapped, making Henry screw up his nose in annoyance. What had that got to do with anything? The superheroes managed to get their phones to their faces eventually but were disappointed with the results.

"No signal. How about you?" Henry sighed. They were too deep for the reception to reach them, and it rendered his phone practically useless unless he wanted to spend his last few minutes playing a game or taking selfies.

"Mine's dead. Forgot to charge it last night." Ray admitted, leaving out the part that he had forgotten because he had stayed up until 2 AM watching movies with (y/n). She was way more interesting than his dumb phone and he had drifted off to sleep to the thought of her and him, together on a beach, walking hand in hand as golden rings glinted in the dying light of the sunset.

"And now we're trapped in the middle of the Swellview Cemetery, six feet under the ground," Henry whined as he and Ray continued to fidget in the confined space.

"Thanks for clearing that up, 'cause I thought we were at the Taylor Swift concert in New Mexico." Ray hissed in response, his emotions getting the best of him as his panic grew. 

"Hey, it's not cool to be sarcastic whilst we're buried alive!" Henry snapped back, also feeling too frustrated to take some stick and not saying anything about it. He was in a life or death situation and all the while his friends were about to get a surprise visit from Nutjob Brad.

"White shadow to Prancing Pony, White shadow to Prancing Pony, over?" The two stopped squabbling when the last voice they had ever expected to be happy to hear sounded in the coffin. Holy shit, it was Jasper on the walkie-talkie!

"What's that?" Ray asked as he failed to recognise the voice over the warbled signal.

"It's my petite walkie-talkie!" Henry smiled happily, feeling overjoyed to have been the one Jasper had picked to be his radio buddy. Thank god he didn't leave it with Charlotte or they would've been in deep shit.

"Who's Prancing Pony?" Ray asked in confusion. Obviously, he hadn't been listening to what was happening in the Man Cave earlier. 

"I'm Prancing Pony, I'm Prancing Pony!" Henry felt dunk on happiness and he reached down to his pocket to grab their saving grace.

"Hello, hey, Jasper? Can you hear me?" He panted into the walkie-talkie as he started to feel lightheaded. The air was quickly disappearing and they need to get out sharpish.

"Can you hear me, over?" Henry growled irritatedly as he realised that Jasper always required him to say the stupid "over" bit. Geez, he was about to die, he didn't have time to fanny about.

"Yeah, I copy ya, over." The two supers breathed a sigh of relief as they made contact. These walkie-talkies were good if the signal could reach underground. 

"Okay, listen, listen. I'm trapped underground in the Swellview Cemetery. I'm in a box with Capta—my boss, Ray, from Junk-N-Stuff. Now, the headstone above us says "Here lies Bradley Belcher". Now, I need you to get a shovel, find a way to get here and dig us out!" Henry instructed him, making sure to catch himself before he revealed that he was with Captain Man. That would make headlines in the morning if word got out.

"When?" Jasper asked, not realising that time was of the essence.

"How about before we run out of air and slowly die?!" Ray hissed as he snatched the walkie-talkie from Henry's fingers. This kid really knew how to test his patience. 

"O-Okay, I'll get there as quick as I can. White Shadow out." Jasper's voice crackled out as he dashed off to get himself ready and luckily (or not so luckily) he would have Piper to help him.

~In the Man Cave~

"Oh god, oh god, where are they?" (y/n) ranted nervously as she paced around the supercomputer area. She had taken the liberty of donning her super suit just to make herself feel a little better, but without Ray or Henry back home safely, she couldn't switch off her worry.

"Come on, Henry, Ray..." Charlotte mumbled to herself and Schwoz as they anxiously tapped on the computer, looking for any signal or sign as to where the pair might be. They had lost contact ages ago and they were all starting to panic, especially (y/n). 

"I bet that invisible freak is behind this, I just know it." (y/n) hissed to them as she put her hands on her hips and chewed her lip. Her gut told her that Brad had his dirty mitts all over the situation and her adrenaline was sky-high, waiting for a fight. He scared the shit out of her, but if he had hurt one hair on Henry or Ray's head, so help her, there would be hell to pay.

"Relax, there's nothing to worry about." Schwoz tried to keep her calm, despite his own niggling sense that something wasn't right. But he could show her his concern, that would just make her tremble more.

"It's been two hours, why won't they respond?" Charlotte pondered out loud, not meaning to upset her friend by reminding her of the situation.

"Maybe something terrible happened to them. Schwoz suggested, causing (y/n) to snap her gaze to him and glare, and in her superhero getup, it was pretty intimidating.

"Schwoz, that's why we're worried." She seethed, feeling like splitting his bald head open like a coconut. He seemed to be an expert at saying the wrong things at the wrong time.

"Ohhhhh." He said and shut his mouth as the tube alarm sounded and a tube came down.

"Oh, thank god, they're here." (y/n) breathed out, but her smile fell when just one tube came and down and no one appeared to be in it. Wait a damn minute...

"Hmm, that's weird," Schwoz commented, knowing that the tubes were working perfectly. They shouldn't have come down on a false alarm.

"Shhh, listen," Charlotte told them and they fell silent. Straining their ears, they made out the sounds of footsteps echoing on the cold floor and they gulped as the noise walked over to a cabinet and pulled out one of Ray's spare gum tubes. 

"Ahhh, this place's haunted!" Schwoz screamed in terror as he watched the tube float. He climbed onto Charlotte's lap in fear, much to her disgust and irritation. That was no ghost and she knew it.

"He's here." (y/n) breathed out as they all tiptoed forward and saw the tube opening.

"Brad? We know it's you!" Charlotte yelled at him as he chuckled and popped a piece of the special gum into his mouth and began to chew. 

"Actually, it's Captain Brad." He gloated as the uniform materialised around him. To be honest, it wasn't very smart to take away your invisibility, particularly when you were in your enemy's hideout.

"Hey, babe." He purred at (y/n) in a disgustingly flirty tone, making the woman feel sick, but she kept it well hidden. She wouldn't dream of giving him the satisfaction.

"Piss off, Brad." She growled, clenching her fists as her body tensed up. She was the only one present with a superpower, meaning she was the only one who could protect her friends.

~Swellview Cemetery~

"I'm so uncomfortable." Henry moaned as he and Ray tried to elbow their way out of the casket. All they were doing was wasting their energy and what little air they had left. There was nothing but dirt around them, so any attempt to escape was futile.

"Can we switch places?" He asked his boss, hoping that a shake-up of their positions would soothe his cramped muscles.

"Yeah, all right." Ray agreed, also wanting a change, but their movements proved to be difficult and awkward as Henry roughly crawled over Ray's body, accidentally whacking him in the face as he did. This day was going swimmingly.

"This is much worse." Henry groaned as his face had ended up in Ray's armpit. He should've stayed where he was, he couldn't even see now.

"What?" The boy asked in confusion as Ray giggled at something random. Had he said something funny?

"It tickles when you talk into my armpit." Captain Man confessed, feeling a bit giddy as Henry tortured him with tickling.

"What do you mean it tickles?" Henry asked, wondering how on Earth it could affect him like that, but Ray just laughed in reply.

"Stop, stop, stop, stop!" He begged as his body shook with mirth. Thankfully for them, Jasper was nearly done digging them out, even if Piper was annoying him by not helping out. She argued that since she had driven them to the cemetery with her sent-by-mistake driver's license, she didn't have to work. 

"What was that?" Ray asked happily when Jasper's shovel hit the lid of the coffin. Salvation had come.

"Jasper's shovel!" Henry realised and they both grinned in delight at the thought of being rescued after two long hours.

"Finally!" Ray breathed out, but they had forgotten one, immensely important factor.

"Jasper! Was that your shovel?" Henry yelled to his friend, praying that's it was.

"Yeah, I'll get you out in a second!" He reassured them, making Henry realise that they had a major problem.

"Aw, geez." His laughter stopped as he caught sight of Ray's costume. Jasper couldn't see them like this.

"What?" Ray asked, wondering what had spooked his sidekick so much.

"We're in uniform. We can't let Jasper and Piper see us as Captain Man and Kid Danger!" He panicked. Jasper was opening the lid any minute and it would no doubt end in a memory wipe if either he or Piper saw them and realised the truth.

"Aw, geez. Quick! Our gumball tubes!" Ray prompted and they both scrambled for their gum, shoving a ball in their mouths and chewing it rapidly. 

"Okay, get ready to be rescued!" They heard Jasper shout, just as they returned to their civilian clothes. The curly-haired boy was rising the lid open just as their normal outfits appeared and thankfully, he was none the wiser as to their secret identities.

Coughing and spluttering, Ray and Henry crawled out of the casket and breathed in the fresh air. Ten more minutes and they probably would've been goners.

"Aw, man. Thanks, buddy." Henry said to his best friend, feeling exceedingly grateful that he had been around to save them.

"Yes, thank you, Jasper. Prancing Pony and I couldn't have done it without you." Ray said too, admitting silently that sometimes, Jasper had some good qualities. Henry sighed at the dumb nickname, it looked like it was gonna stick for a while and he'd never live it down.

"So, how did you and your boss get trapped here and buried in a casket?" Piper interrogated, feeling miffed that she'd had to drive all the way across town to save her stupid brother and his dumb boss.

"Well, uh...it's, it's, uh...weird story." "Uh, yeah." They stuttered in response. They couldn't tell them that a crazy, invisible man with a serious grudge had buried them alive so he could take over Captain Man's life and steal his girl, they'd think they were insane.

"Actually, we were watching, we were at Junk-N-Stuff, earlier..."

"Watching TV."

"Right and the news and stuff, and turtles!" "Turtles!" 

The rambling went on and on as Henry and Ray tried to blag their way through an excuse, slowly backing away as they did. Jasper and Piper stared at them in confusion as they mumbled nonsense, eventually disappearing into the trees and bushes. At least they had gotten away; sure, it would be difficult to explain later, but right now, they had to kick Brad's ass.

~In the Man Cave~

"Haven't you missed me, (y/n), or should I say, baby?" Brad cooed at (y/n) as she stood in front of Schwoz and Charlotte, shielding them from anything he could throw at them with her super-healing body.

"Like a hole in a parachute. You're supposed to be dead." She replied flatly, hating all the revolting nicknames he gave her. She only liked one and that came from Ray, no one else could call her theirs.

"We thought you got hit by a bus." Charlotte jumped in, glaring at the invisible man, who was still wearing Ray's suit. 

"You thought wrong." Brad hissed, making (y/n) protectively keep Charlotte at a safe distance. If this guy made one wrong move, she'd give him a taste of her new power combined with the sweet techniques Ray had taught her in self-defence.

"That's what Ray said." Schwoz whimpered, feeling terrified at the prospect of having a madman in the Man Cave.

"Yeah, I wanted him to think I was dead so that later I could sneak back into his life, take over as the new superhero here in Swellview and have (y/n) as my beautiful girlfriend," Brad revealed his evil plot, making (y/n) gulp silently as Charlotte's phone began to ring and vibrate.

"Wait, who's that?" Brad growled as his dark monologue was interrupted. Schwoz and (y/n) crowded around the girl and looked at her phone, although the young woman made sure to keep one eye on Captain Dickhead at all times.

"Who texted?" Schwoz asked, hoping it was their saviour.

"Henry. He says that he and Ray are getting here in just a minute!" Charlotte told them in delight, making her friends sigh in relief and Brad clenched his fists in anger.

"Aw, man!" He cursed and quickly tried to strip himself of the uniform that counteracted his invisibility.

"What are you doing, asshole?" (y/n) asked as she wrinkled her nose up at the sight of him getting undressed.

"Taking off the uniform so Ray won't be able to see me!" He replied, making the woman frown. To her relief, the tubes came down, just in time, bringing Ray and Henry with them.

"Where's Brad?" Ray demanded to know, scouring the Man Cave with his eyes.

"Not here," Brad said nervously as he removed the blue shirt of the costume. 

"No, he's right there!" Charlotte pointed to the man and Ray noticed that his trousers and boots were walking around by themselves as Brad dilly-dallied about what he should do next.

"The pants! The pants! Get the pants!" Schwoz and Henry directed him, making Ray leap over the couch as he went after Brad. 

"Ahhh! Leave me alone, Ray!" Brad whined as he was chased around the sofa, the real Captain Man desperate to grab him and tan his ass for trying to take his girl.

"Ooo, try and get me!" Brad taunted him and ran around in circles to confuse Ray. With his enemy disorientated, he tried to tiptoe away but failed to realise (y/n) was also on the warpath. 

"Come here, you dirty little freak!" She growled, stalking him with a murderous glare.

"Oh, baby, don't be mad at me. I love you..." He tried to butter her up, but it just infuriated her more and Ray, well, let's just say he wanted to rip him apart with his bare hands. (y/n) wasn't a "baby"; she was his sweet girl and he'd be damned if this asshole tried to take her away from him.

(y/n) threw a punch at Brad, but he quickly blocked it, making her switch tactics and give him a sharp liver shot as he tried to uppercut her. He howled in pain as his ribs throbbed, but he still managed to take her by surprise and land a forceful, invisible fist on her cheekbone. He smirked as she winced and doubled over as she clutched her face. A punch like that would surely knock a young lady out and he smirked as she stumbled back, causing Ray to panic as she stopped fighting.

"You're mine (y/n), just submit to your fear..." Brad told her tenderly, but it had a pernicious undertone and to the old (y/n), it would have been her breaking point. Brad raised another fist to literally beat her into submission, but to his shock, when it came down, (y/n) caught it with an iron grip and twisted it harshly behind his back.

"I'm sorry, Brad, but you can't hurt me anymore." She told him in a quiet, solemn voice, not seeing the way Brad's eyes widened as the bruise and tiny cut on her cheek healed over and faded before his eyes. He had no power over her anymore, she had found her bravery.

"Quick, Henry, the bear spray!" Ray shouted to his sidekick, who scrambled to get the formidable spray from the cabinet whilst Brad was still in (y/n)'s tight hold.

"Aw, no Ray, not the bear spray—ahhhhhh!" Brad screamed as Henry used the weapon and the fine mist made his eyes burn and weep like they were burning, melting and freezing all at the same time. 

"It burns!" He shouted on the floor as (y/n) stepped back and blinked to remove the small amount of spray that had landed in her eyes. He was right, it stung like one thousand hornets in her eyes, but for her, it only lasted a few seconds as her souped-up genetics sorted the problem out quickly.

"I'm so proud of you." The young woman heard from her right as Ray walked over to her and lovingly squeezed her body against his in a quick embrace. She had been super and he couldn't be more pleased with her courageous actions, Brad certainly knew who was boss now.

"I just did what you would have done." She replied humbly, relieved to have him with her again, safe and sound.

"Oh, it burns so bad!" The sound of Brad's complaining, groaning and flailing about as his skin seared made the couple break apart and walk to his side. Although, Ray still kept an arm around her waist; when Brad was finally able to open his eyes, he wanted him to be able to see that she was off-limits to guys like him. She deserved the best man to give her a damn good life and Brad would never reach Ray's standards. It physically ached his heart to think about letting her walk off with someone else, but he thought that she needed the perfect guy and that wasn't him.

"That's not something you see every day," Henry commented as everyone watched Brad writhing on the floor, or rather, a pair of pants and boots writhing on the floor.

"Not it's not, kinda weird," Ray said as his thumb gently stroked over (y/n)'s hipbone. She was only half concentrating on the man in pain as she much preferred to admire the way Ray's shirt perfectly accentuated his chest muscles. 

Brad was a fool for thinking she'd ever love him. She'd found her perfect guy and he would always be the one for her. If only she saw the way his eyes subtly raked over her curves in her super suit as she gave Brad a pasting, she might have kissed him like she sorely wanted to.

"How do the bears deal with this? Oh god, it's horrible!" He complained, making the Man Cave crew giggle since he totally deserved this. 

As if anyone could try to take away Captain Man's girl and not suffer his wrath.

[vaultsixtynine]

no editing we die like warriors (i am exhausted after this week of work and i do not remember how to write NOR how to make genuine dialogue, especially for avery. good day) - technically not fallout because i've couched it all in Vague Space Terms (ignore the [] brackets around things that don't have analogs yet), but these are technically fallout characters. avery, as always, belongs to silt @darkwingerduck

===========

barbershop duet

"stop moving, munir," wyn chastised, putting one foot on the wheel at the bottom of the office chair to stop it from spinning if the man sitting under her hands decided to pull away again. "one wrong snip and i'll have to give you a buzz cut instead."

munir made a noise not unlike a malfunctioning engine and immediately tried to move to look back at her - perhaps to spit back something suitably scathing - but she lightly slapped the top of his head with her free hand before grabbing the corded muscle at the back of his neck and forcing him to hold it where she needed it. he resisted, at first, but she kept the pressure on until he accepted the movement and looked forward again.

"i'm not a fucking dog that you're grooming - "

"you're right, i could muzzle a dog!"

"very original, sawyer. i'm sure you have plenty of people you like to muzzle in other ports, right?"

the retort lacked his trademark bite, though, so wyn patted the spot on his crown that she'd slapped a few seconds prior to reinforce the 'dog' messaging and turned her attention to the task at hand: shearing the ill-tempered customs officer at her mercy before he could think better of it.

avery's hair had been growing unchecked for more than seven consecutive visits to the transit station, and he'd passed into a phase of immense irritability as he struggled against the perennially hot operations department office, since it sat so close to a station reactor deck. the nigh-constant nasal sighs of overheated frustration were a bit funny, but it distracted him from more important (wyn-related) matters and looked a bit too unkempt - even for her. she'd decided enough was enough and led him with somewhat accurate promises of quick results into one of their usual, slightly more secluded spots for a trim. sure, munir's coworkers would wonder if they were fucking, but it wasn't exactly a secret. and, well… they still might, if she made quick work of it.

wyn combed her fingers back through his hair again before he could try to move, holding a longer chunk between two fingers and extending it to its full length, which was certainly longer than she'd ever seen it before. pursing her lips, she gauged the tightness of the curl, gave it a bit of slack, and quickly snipped the excess hair. another piece - pull, judge the target length, cut. the repeated movement held a certain meditative quality, and she found herself sliding back into an old, sleepily-remembered rhythm. 

under her fingers, avery was clearly trying his best to not fidget since her chastisement, and - to her satisfaction - succeeding. the slope of his shoulders had started high, tight to his sides as he fought the instinctive pull from her every movement, but seemed to relax by degrees. once wyn established a cadence, occasionally nudging his head or lifting his chin with the lightest of touches, she needed to hold back in expectation of the lurch less and less. there were several pauses where she thought she heard him inhale as if to speak, but whatever wrung-out irritability he had upon being coaxed into this had seeped away in the resulting half-resigned sighs. it was nice, actually; this was perhaps the longest period of time she'd gone around him without either of them opening their mouth, in any context. it made her work on his hair easier, and she found her thoughts wandering to the last time she'd done this, nearly a decade prior.

in her mind's eye, a smaller pair of hands held an ever so slightly shittier pair of scissors, the head under her ministrations smaller, too. the haze of memory dulled the irritation she'd felt at the time, since her brother's hair grew like a weed - much like the rest of him - at that age, and that was the second time that cycle she'd had to deal with his impatient wriggling on their lopsided bathroom stool. wyn came back to herself abruptly - she had been humming the janky undercity radio song she remembered being popular around that time, and cleared her throat before properly coughing into the bend of her elbow to cover the realization that she had no idea how long she'd been embarrassing herself like that for. not a peep from munir, though, which was… a blessing, nominally, even if it was a bit suspicious.

she'd finished clipping the shaggy curls at the back and sides of his neck, and stepped around their makeshift set-up to begin on the hair on the front of his head, diving in with renewed vigor now that she'd snapped out of her reverie. tight at his temples, then getting longer and longer as she worked her way to the familiar peaked shape of his hairline in the middle of his forehead. she intended to match the slightly-non-regulation mussed look he'd had a few months ago, when they… wyn paused before her next decisive snip of the scissors and looked down for a moment, trying to bridge the silence stretching between them and the background station noises after she'd stopped sloppily humming a pop song he'd never heard less than two minutes prior. to her muted surprise, his shoulders had completely relaxed to a natural slope and his eyes were closed, though they snapped open to borderline glare at her from under dark brows as soon as he detected the mildest shift in conditions - which was very like him, she supposed.

"what?" - and it wasn't a question, really, but a sharp demand as to why something had changed. wyn didn't deny herself a smug smirk as she considered whether or not he'd actually been enjoying himself - was he relaxed, even? the novelty factor in itself had her tickled. there was an undeniable appeal at having him at her fingertips in as unguarded a state as he ever seemed to get - not that she'd let him know that, of course.

"oh, nothing. just, um, wondering how this -" she flicked the still-long curl falling over his forehead, taking the open opportunity to tease him, " - even happened. did they push all the barbers out the airlock?" she bent forward slightly to leverage the rare moment of having a height advantage, leaning in to meet avery's gaze with a playful, eyebrows-raised expression.

he tilted his head back to look over her shoulder, then, the intensity of their eye contact for longer than a few moments still to be avoided. she knew by now not to take it personally, and quickly reached forward to cut the last, long chunk before their conversation got any more animated.

"no, and technically, this is your fault -"

wyn couldn't contain her guffaw, but she made sure to pull the scissors back from his face as she laughed. a scar would add a little something to the sharp planes of his cheeks, but she could just as easily take out an eye by accident.

" - since our one single aide who knew how to trim hair overheard your bullshit tales of stellar derring-do and, in a fit of what i can only assume was temporary lunacy, decided he was going to run off to the moon to chase fool's gold." the exasperation was palpable, but she could tell it wasn't entirely directed at her.

"you sound a little jealous, munir."

"jealous? as if i had the - " he paused to inhale sharply. "i just can't get a haircut that doesn't look like it was done by a fucking infant anymore, so color me anything but green. especially considering i'm sitting in a heat sink corridor letting a known criminal near my neck with a pair of scissors." 

agitated movement in his lap - she saw him rubbing a few fingers over some scars on the opposite hand, one of his most predictable poker tells and the prologue to more dramatic gestures if no one put a foot out to trip him.

"well, good news - i'm basically done. that wasn't so bad, was it? i think it looks quite fetching."

she held up her pocket mirror for avery, then, passing it off so he could inspect it himself. a flicker of surprise passed over his face, replaced quickly by a more genuine expression of relief - he seemed to remember himself, then, and looked at her half-squinted, instead.

"i'll admit, sawyer, i thought this was going to look like dogshit." 

she grinned guilelessly and made a gesture of exaggerated humility with both hands before leaning forward to brace her arms on the back of the chair behind avery's torso, falling on either side of his head as she leaned closer to his level - he gave no indication of moving away, which was an open invitation from munir if there ever was one.

"i used to trim my brother's hair when he was about yea high - " she held her hand up to roughly wave around her mid-chest. "his cuts came out to worse, though, because you cannot convince a ten-to-thirteen year old to sit still when he wants to go watch ships coming to port. but your curls are similar enough to get the gist."

munir's head tilted slightly again, brow furrowed, and his eyes trailed back to her face as if to clarify an unspoken question - and. oh, moons. she had probably never mentioned even having family to him over the course of their relations - and she should have kept it that way. stupid! it was nobody's business, and certainly not his.

"i didn't realize you had… um, family."

great.

"don't get excited, mun, i was just sharing a topical anecdote."

something in her face must have changed or gone hard at the comment, though, and the freshly-trimmed officer reached up to hestitantly tuck her mirror back into the breast pocket of her jacket, if only to have something to do with his hands.

"how… how long am i going to be paying for this? i'm assuming you won't take [credits] for it."

she put her smile back on instantly, grateful he decided to have the most basic ability to back the hell off - which wasn't always true of munir, but maybe the renewed ability to avoid overheating had sweetened the deal.

wyn leaned in closer as if to answer and released the lever that controlled stabilization on the chair with her foot - the chair went spinning backwards towards the corridor wall, and she used the momentum to pull herself into his lap. he yelped in surprise, the relative calm of the jury-rigged salon replaced with a lapful of smuggler, and automatically closed his arms around her in a vice grip - he did that without thinking whenever her trajectory suddenly entered his space, and she could admit she found it endearing.

once near enough to one of the largest pipes, she used her foot again to halt their transit, and the sudden shift sent the chair and its occupants into the closest foam-built wall. 

before he could start with any complaints, she reached up to grab his chin with one hand, guiding him in for a kiss.

"no credits from [ring] government employees, yes, but i take alternate forms of payment. would you know anyone who has something like that?"

wyn punctuated her tease with another press of her lips to his and a hand wound into his fresh haircut, months of familiarity melding into a pleasant warmth between them as she waited for his omnipresent churlishness to melt away - and at that moment, she found none. avery met her halfway, and she smiled into him with an authenticity that she didn't need to manufacture.

[prismaticpichu]

Seph and Zack try their hand at babysitting.

SQUEEEE!!! They would make such an awesome team…..! If they were babysitting a pet rock. Kinda. Maybe not. I’d give them 3.4/5 on Care.Com, would recommend for date nights but not anything too long.

“Honeyyy, we need someone to watch Sheldon tonight.”

“Not a problem! There’s a military base just across the sector, remember?”

Zack is SO into it! Oh yeah!!!! PARTY TIME!! He greets the little bean with a high five, down low, too slow and assures the parents that everything will be a-okay! He looked after kids in Gongaga all the time. He’s got this!

Sephiroth, meanwhile, nearly knocks down a coat rack coming in, assures the parents that he is well trained in medical if anything goes wrong, and recounts both parents’ mobile numbers, email addresses, and probably license plates to make sure they can reach them if needed.

Alright, mom and dad! You brought boot camp home with you. Let’s see what happens!

Zack’s first suggestion is to play a board game- they’re fun for the whole family!!! Sephiroth volunteers to be the judge, but Zack vehemently insists that Candy Land has no judges and he’s gotta play! He GOTTA. So the three sit criss-cross applesauce as they make their way through the wondrous sugar paradise until one of them is crowned winner. Sephiroth can’t exactly say he’s all too disappointed at coming in third place (though he really should have moved four spaces forward at Cinnamon City…)

Well. At least it’s over now-

“Charades! Charades!” The little bean jumps up and down. “Let’s play charades!”

“Heck yeah!” Zack fist pumps. “Charades is the best!”

Zack goes first, proceeding to flop on his stomach and curl himself alllll the way inwards.

“You’re a stomach cramp,” Sephiroth guesses, actually quite pleased with his guess. Turns out he was very off-base; Zack was a snail, and the 5yo child bested him at guessing it correctly.

“Mr Sephiroth’s turn!” the little bean says.

Oh. Oh no. No no no he was not—

Sephiroth’s taking stage about 30 seconds later. He prefers not to disclose the details of his card.

It’s dinner time!!! Zack and Seph have a quick chat about who should cook dinner, ultimately settling on Sephiroth when it came down to who was least likely to start a fire. Zack resumes his game of robot pirate invasion with the little bean as Seph gathers some eggs from the kitchen. Eggs were nutritious. Eggs were simple. Eggs were friendly.

Unnnfortuantly, the egg explodes in his hand when he tries to crack it. And this happens again, and again, and again, and AGAIN, until the poor guy is surrounded by a massacre of yolky eggshells. Sephiroth calls them into the kitchen abt 3 minutes later, three steaming plates of Eggos waffles fresh from the toaster. Compliments to the chef! It’s very tasty <3

It’s bedtime!!! Zack & Sephiroth make sure the little bean is all snug in bed, and Zack suggests telling him a bedtime story- just like Seph does to him when he sits at the foot of his bed (their secret)! Ohhh there are so many stories… so many memories…

Sephiroth approves.

“Alrighty, little guy! I have a story for ya: it was a bright and beautiful Tuesday… I had just finished morning warmups, and boy did I not know I was gonna have to get my finger sewn back on…”

Sephiroth does NOT approve.

The little bean is lulled to sleep by some gentle, quiet singing instead, sung by none other than the golden-voiced Sephiroth as Zack falls asleep on his shoulder <3 The parents return home to find the little bean snug as a bug in bed, and Sephiroth accepts their money on behalf of the knocked-out Zack—who is still very snuggly draped over his shoulders.

Welp, back to work tomorrow. That was an… experience. One that was worth it though, if it meant that Zack could have a slice of his old life in Midgar <3 <3

…

…..OH IFRIT’s HANDBAG. He forgot to clean up the kitchen-

[antishaman]

So, this is what the Gojo clan looked like.

Distinct from the other shaman families, clad in white, baby blue, and red accented robes, with a small number in purple accented attire. They all looked refined, dignified, barely acknowledging the other families who were here at the joint school competition. Were they snobby for being related to the one everyone praised and relied on? Did they think to be above everyone else? It rubbed Suguru the wrong way, and amplified by the way stress he saw in Satoru's eyes as he stared hard at the man sitting in the center.

He looked as well, seeing that it was the current clan head also mean mugging. Suguru's information on the Gojo clan came from the scrolls that were a part of the school library, but he got plenty more details from straight from his partner. None of it sound flattering, all of it explained to him in non-chalance and indifference; Satoru didn't speak warmly of any of his family, even his parents. It was one of the few things that the curse eater couldn't understand since his relationship to his parents wasn't strained. What he did understand is that the Gojo clan weren't here to cheer for their kin, but rather to judge.

Whatever. They weren't going to ruin today.

Giving Satoru a reassuring nudge, he passes along words of encouragement and signing it off with a confident smirk: they were going to win this competition with flying colors. And because they both knew that nobody here was going to give them a real challenge, Suguru offered to do a competition between the two of them instead. Giddy and arrogant, Satoru declared he was going to win no doubt, bumping Suguru with his shoulder.

They were discussing what prize they wanted when his name was called. It had come from the Gojo clan head, Masato. He, accompanied by two others trailing just a few steps shy behind him, heads down, approached the two.

Suguru narrowed his eyes, looking between the head and his partner.

"Leave us," Masato commanded to Suguru.

Suguru opened his mouth to object, but Satoru was quick. "Nah, spit out what you have to say already. We're busy here, geezer."

Normally, Suguru's shoulders would slump, looking bothered at the way Satoru spoke to his elders, but this time he kept tall, hands in his pockets, looking defiantly at Masato.

Disgrace in his tone, Masato shamed Satoru for being so friendly with a boy who didn't come from a family of sorcery, how he was making his family feel shame for acting without dignity, and going on about the importance of coming home to Kyoto, how he should be representing the Kyoto school - oh, this guy could drone on and on.

Irritation was evident in the impatient way Satoru tapped his foot into the ground, the sneer as his nose crinkled in disgust, the glare signaling that he was about to blow.

"Satoru is more than capable of finishing this competition with a high score," Suguru stepped in, physically filling the space between Masato and his dear partner. "He also doesn't need to hear this bullshit before we head off to get our victory. And so what if my family is different from yours? My father taught me that it's better to keep your mouth shut than to bitch and moan, and right now it sounds like you're upset that Tokyo has two special grades against Kyoto's school. Now, kindly, return to your seat. Spectators aren't to infere." And the cherry on top, he gave Masato the middle finger before interlocking his fingers with Satoru's and pulling him away.

He knew that Satoru didn't need his help. He knew that his partner was more than capable of mouthing off on his own and getting away with it. But for fucks sake, his family sounded like assholes. Pretentious, stuck up, irritable-

"What happened to Mr. Goody Two Shoes? Too scared to talk back to our own teacher?" Satoru was grinning ear to ear, arm draped heavily over Suguru's shoulders as he pulled him in close. "I barely recognized you back there."

"Maybe you're rubbing off on me after all," he smiled back.

"Good. Cuz I wanna piss off the old man more."

Satoru kissed him right there, in front of everybody, and Suguru let loose by enhancing the PDA with visible tongue and his hand roaming down his partners sides. Meanwhile, there was an angry pair of eyes burning holes into Suguru's back, blue eyes feeding off that energy, and Masato earning another middle finger from the next clan head.

a drabble for @limitlessscion , piggybacking from their response to a meme, and also the Gojo clan head Masato is their character! I wrote this with their Gojo clan politics in mind too. i loved your response so much, and i had joint school competition brain worms all day

[campbluelake]

can't be graded to black and white | kyousuke | trial 1.5 | re:augh

“... Fuckin' hell.”

He can’t help but let that slip out. He’s been mostly quiet, thinking, as things kept spiraling out of control. Holding back Eri is such second nature that it doesn’t jar him from his thoughts completely, other than the moment he takes to give her a quick look. Not now. Not in front of all these people.

It isn’t until Abbie asks him to throw her vote in that his brain starts to really catch up, and when the events are shown to them all–

Seriously. What the fuck?

Things can’t just be black or white, he knows, but this knocks it pretty far from grey. The stress, the fear - Kyousuke gets that. It was fucking horrifying, and when you already have a lingering trauma that this reminds you of, of course anyone would be desperate to escape the feeling.

But so blatantly asked not to kill certain people. Instructed to do it painlessly. And then to end up doing all of that to someone who was in the wrong place at the wrong time?

Kyousuke likes to laud his ability to stick by a friend no matter what, but seeing that makes it hard. For as much as he simply has not had the space in his brain to decide what he thinks of her, at least Saya made a point of planning a painless death. He can talk to her after all of this, anyway. And he’s not sure that, had Kaede decided to find him in the dead of night with that frenzied look instead of a quiet request for company that he would have kept his calm.

But Kaede was freaking out, with an emotion so raw and terrible that Kyousuke can’t even begin to understand it – and he’s about to die, too, so what’s the point in saying all those terrible things Kaede must already know? What’s the point in judging an emotion he doesn’t understand? Kyousuke has never felt a fear so all encompassing like that. He can’t even imagine it.

He ends up rubbing his forehead, glad others are speaking so maybe no one other than Eri notices how his brow knits together in frustration as he tries to ease off a headache.

“... You don’t deserve to fuckin’ die. That ain’t – that’s not how this should work. Even if you did all of that. Even though Niko didn't deserve that.”

He manages to give Kaede a fraught smile.

“I’ll, uh… I’ll miss – bein’ your roommate, man. … You were a good one. I’m still glad we met, too. I’ll keep an eye on the anhinga while you’re gone. Just… promise you’ll apologize to Niko when you see him, alright? … He’s the only one who can forgive you.”

This really fucking sucks.

[iconocon]

future of monaco | leclerc | 4

summary: choices are never easy are they?

warnings: uh cheating? but really a whole lot of angst

word count: 2k | ⚔︎ ANGST

part 1 part 2 part 3

⏤

and with that, he was off out the door rushing while carrying a million things but somehow once again forgetting his phone on the nightstand. hoping to catch him before he was too far gone you too rush out the room but in opening the door you're reminded of what you tried so hard to forget arm raised about to knock on the very door you now clung to trying to hide behind its frame.

"charles, hi"

"we need to talk"

fuck. you were fucked.

→

“I-“ he could tell you were hesitating if not by the sound of your voice then almost definitely by your body language. of course, you were never that lucky because as you leaned into the door as if you were about to close it he obviously was not going to let that happen. one perfectly presented black and white chuck taylors was now placed on the threshold of the hotel room paired with a ringed hand holding onto the door frame. you had two options; harm probably insured multi-billion dollar body parts OR let him in so against your own judgment but probably in the judgment of your lawyers you allow him in. “can we um make this quick”

the surprise on his face did not help the way your heart raced as your oldest friend now walked passed you towards the bed before he started his pleading. “rose you have to, believe me, I never wanted to hurt you”

“but you did”

“I know I did and i’m sorry I did it was a bad race and a bad day and I took it out on you”

those stupid blue eyes were beaming right into every inch of resolve that you built up in the space of your getaway with pierre. you couldn’t look at him. if anything you looked anywhere but his body and it made you feel so small when in reality you had all the power in the room. even if you couldn’t look at him that still didn’t stop you from soaking in every word that came out of his mouth even with his ramblings and frantic hands.

“i had to find out from instagram where my best friend was do you know how weird that was?” and it continued as if he couldn’t find the off button. “in milan she was in fucking milan in a bikini, in a pool, with my other best friend I mean really rose pierre?”

there it was again, the judgment. never once have you judged him for all the skimpy beautiful women he would meet at bars and take home. never once did you tell him he couldn’t do something because it would hurt your feelings, yet here he was throwing it all in your face like it wasn’t his fault in the first place. “what’s wrong with pierre?”

“nothings wrong with pierre but there’s something wrong with you AND pierre” there was the jealousy again something he had absolutely no right in, especially with how he has treated you pushing you to the side until he’s drunk calling you at odd hours in the morning telling you he loves you. charles didn’t know how to love you, he didn’t understand where the boundaries started and ended when it came to you. most of that was your fault because you gave him free rein over you for 20 odd years but now you needed to take that back as none of this was fair not to you or him or even his girlfriend.

“p has been nothing but nice to me”

“p?” the scoff that followed behind also wasn’t lost to your ears. “of course he’s been nice to you we both know how he is”

“what do you mean?”

“he’s always been following you around i mean come on don’t be blind.”

was that true? had pierre always had a thing for you and once again you were too blinded by the wrong one. thinking back to children or even teenagers it made your heartburn that you couldn’t even think of moments past the important ones with this stranger in front of you. he was where all your first were and now you were beginning to realize what everyone meant when they said how unhealthy that was for you.

the fingers brushing the hair out of your eyes sobered up all the thoughts of him as you finally made eye contact. “I meant what I said on the phone” the slurring of I love you rose rang as the distant memory came back. he felt so real, the hand on your face felt so real, but the way he was acting felt like a daydream as if he wasn’t actually here confessing his feelings for you in real-time. “rose, let me make it up to you.” like he was scared you would run out the door and never come back again he made slow movements until his feet now stood ok either side of yours while his hand moved further back into your hair. you knew what he was doing, you knew what was gonna happen next you would be stupid if you didn’t and maybe parts of you wanted it to happen because even as his eyes drifted towards your lips you didn’t move away.

the leaning in felt like slow motion. the feeling of his warm minty breath fanning to mix with yours felt like slow motion. even the feeling of his fingers gripping the back of your head to pull you into him felt slow motion. the kiss, however, was anything but slow motion, the minute you two met all thoughts were gone and you were back to reality gripping onto the front of his hoeodie. even as your back hit the wall you didn’t dare part to even breathe because you knew the minute you actually thought about what you were doing you would start beating yourself up again. you were lost in him, the hand that dug into your sides begging you to jump into his awaiting arms didn't even seem to phase you as you obliged now pinned against the wall.

"rose-" this time it was you who didn't let him finish as you took the opportunity to burn this memory in every inch of his skin you could hold. rolling your hips against his fabric-clad center should've told you that you went too far but the moan that came out of the pair of you made you never want this to end.

the scornful laugh that filled the hotel room at that moment confused your lustful brain as you started taking in the reality of the situation in front of you. here you were pinned against the wall by charles as pierre all sweaty, and now obviously angry but laughing (?) walked into his hotel room.

"wow don't let me interrupt you two" how you kept finding yourself in these situations you would never fucking know. pushing charles as far away from you as possible you now stood in the middle of the hallway awkwardly watching pierre like a hawk as he walked by you two and now to the bed where he drops his things than himself before looking at you. “no continue come on”

not trusting your own voice you listen as charles responds, “come on man”

“i wanna hear from her, not you”

“don’t do that”

“i can't ask her how it feels to have both of us on her lips?” the smile on his face was wide almost like he was enjoying this, you knew pierre was petty and usually you also loved that side of him but here it was biting you in the ass. “c’mon cherie who’s the better kisser tell us”

you couldn’t handle this. you could barely handle the both of them alone and now here they were cock fighting over you taking up all the air in the room.

“talk to me colombe”

“pierre shut up rose come with me”

“she’s not fucking leaving”

the sound of you struggling to catch your breath you could only assume stopped both of them in their bickering tracks as they watched the color drain from your face.

“i can’t do this” before ethier one could grab you from the hallway you were gone. running and running and running. down the hallway, through the stairwell, it felt like forever until you saw the exit door to the outside. you wish you could say you stopped there but you kept going for blocks not even paying attention to the empty roads you were crossing until you saw what you were looking for. the sand humbled you as your running feet got stuck in the earth finally catching your breath as you inhaled nothing but the salty air. how did you get in this situation a month ago you were sitting in your apartment on the phone with your friends still denying your feelings for anyone and now you kissed the two men that literally built you into the person you were today.

even as the air got colder and the wind got harsher you sat on the sand with your head between your knees running your fingers in the sand, sometimes drawing dumb pictures other times messing up what you already drew. you wish you even had a choice to make because maybe that would make this easier. it wasn’t picking between them it was picking which one you couldn’t be without and you would rather have neither than go down that road.

the shouting of your name wasn’t what reached your ears first instead the sight of bright red and navy blue mixed together barreled into your eyesight. the both of them struggling against the sand running wildly towards you had to be some type of comedy act as the one in red was clumsily catching up to the wide strides of his counterpart.

“colombe” “rose”

it was mind-numbing, after every scenario you played through you did not imagine BOTH of them working together to find you. you knew eventually one would as the beach has always been your place. a place where you would sit for hours to even make the simplest decisions. even though you didn’t answer them they still understood what you needed each taking a seat beside you in the sand to stare out to where the moon met the sea.

“I can’t lose you”

even without naming who you were talking to your respective counterparts knew you meant them both and all you could do is hope they wouldn’t give you the ultimatum you’ve been dreading.

“rose im sorry”

“yeah charles is sorry”

“pierre”

when you finally looked over unamused at him and his dumb joke the huge cheshire grin that took up his whole face broke you into a fit of exhaustive laughter to the point that yours was still louder than the ones that joined you. finally giving into the sand you stretch out sighing as you become one with it now looking up at the stars not missing a beat as the three of you bunched together to the point that you couldn’t tell who’s hair was who’s, foreheads touching as you stargazed like you did when you were all kids camping. watching on you didn't miss the gasp or point from charles as a shooting star crossed from east of the sky to the west as you closed your eyes now wishing for monaco to forgive you for the mess you made.

⏤

mistakes? yes ill come back and fix but IM SORRY I hoped you liked this ending I wanted to at least give a somewhat happy ending as i didn't think charles or pierre would get justice from anything else but i appreciate all the love and support on the series as it was just originally one part thank you!

[reddrakebird]

The shades remained in his hand not wanting to put them down to get damaged. He balanced them carefully so that no smudges got on the lens, careful even as Kon-El glared at him. One brow perked up quizzingly, wondering what inspired the glare? As Timothy spoke, he noted it softened only to flare up again. He assumed it was because of his comment about going beyond Earth, but he was frustrated by so many spoken and unspoken things between them. 

Both were at fault here.

It was up to them both to fix it. 

Twin hands rose in the air in surrender, with the glasses danging in one as Kon-El told him to stop making assumptions. He was not; he was protecting the man from Timothy himself. Saying that would only cause more questions. The moment Kon-El insulted him and said his judgment was ‘bullshit,’ those hands lowered, still careful about the glasses in their possession. “No, that is not what I said. I am listening to you.” He tried to reinforce firmly and then went quiet to prove he was. 

The frustration felt in the air, but there as no fear from Timothy. He knew Kon-El would not hurt him from a small spat, however, the agitation had him concerned. And once again confused on what was happening with Kon-El. Was he always this quick to anger? Had Timothy been blind to it? What was triggering it? Thoughts were racing in his head as he tried to both hear Kon-El and solve this mystery so they could stop repeating it.

“You did.” he affirmed that Kon-El had expressed he had the best week of his life. It stung all the same when it was six years after his existence. “I do not know, Kon-El. That is why I was trying to convince you to not go off with’ ideas’ and no plans. That is ludicrous to do even for someone as powerful as you because too many variables could go wrong. And your backup plan was to call a lantern? That means you have to rely on someone else, which is precisely what you do not want to do!” The tenor did rise a bit in that last sentence.

He wanted space to think and not have Kon-El’s warm body underneath him. He had to pace to vent the energy he was holding back after the past couple of days. Instead, he stayed perched on that lap because he did not want Kon-El to run. The man had tried to do it a few times now. “I just want to help you learn better ways to do what you want to do. I am not going to stop you, hell, I couldn’t if I fucking tried. Not because you are superboy, but because you are your own person. Being with me, sexually or as my best friend, should not stop you from doing something you want to do, more so if it improves the galaxy. I get that being useful is important to you and helping makes you feel wanted, needed.. I just… I want you to be safe doing it. THAT is not bullshit.”

The glasses were handed back to him carefully, waiting to see if Kon-El was going to put back on that piece of armor and barrier between them. “I also never said you felt trapped. I said I did not want you to feel that way. You still don’t know what happened while you were gone. You have no fucking clue who we all became, what came next for each of us, so I do not want you to make choices until you know all of it.”

The left dominant hand rose to wipe across his face as he tried to think about the following words and carefully put them out there without seeming to assume or judge. He knew Kon-El was not telling him everything either, but he did not want to push when the man offered the same. “Get dressed." He paused when he realized that sounded rude. "Please. I want to show you something that I hope will make sense or... hell put things into perspective.” 

Leaning forward, Timothy attempted to kiss those lips quickly, only stopping if Kon-El did not want to receive that kind of affection when he was frustrated.

"I don't know, I've never tried." Kon admitted at the galaxy comment. Okay, maybe there was a slight hitch in the plan. But that was assuming things went wrong. Why did Tim always assume that had to be the case? Was it because Kon was that big of a fuck up? Did he think he couldn't handle himself out there? Eyes began to feel heated and Kon had to swallow hard to stop them from going red entirely. Why couldn't Tim have a little faith in him? Timothy's sigh didn't go unheard, Kon simply shoving his shades further up his nose in defiance. So what if he didn't like the idea? Nobody was forcing him to come with. He shuffled to lean up on his elbows as Tim shifted to sit upright, making no secret of his glare as the smaller man drew back his shades. What was the deal with that anyway? Always acting like he should be ashamed of wearing them. Kon had every right to wear whatever he damn pleased. That glare immediately softened at Timothy's words. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you-" But then it hardens again at the next confession. "Trapped? You think I'd feel trapped with you? Can you maybe stop making assumptions for a hot ass minute?!" Kon huffed, blue eyes staring straight and hard at him for a moment. "Your judgement is bullshit." Kon counter-argued, crossing his arms. "Quit assuming you know what I want and listen to me instead." "I told you five minutes ago that this was the best week of my life, and you think I'm what? Trying to run from it? From you? " HIs voice leaked frustration but wasn't quite on the verge of shouting. At least not yet.

"What do you want me to say Tim? I've already told you I'm just trying to find my feet again. I need to feel like I'm doing something. Protecting people. I refuse to spend the rest of my life twiddling my thumbs waiting for an accident to happen. Not when there's a universe full of people suffering right fucking now."

[sxcret-garden-archive]

Hey can you do how would members be toxic??? I know they are super duper cute but everyone has their toxicity inside right? After knowing them more I feel like Intak and Theo would have openly problems like Intak’s overconfidence and Theo’s overly judgemental not sure about other members tho

Okay I'm gonna answer this right here if that's okay and not make a separate post^^ also disclaimer that this is pure speculation based on how I see their personalities and my own opinion! (Also, while there are people who are toxic all on their own, I think that for a large part of humanity, our personality traits only turn into something toxic if paired with someone who we don't work with very well (or refuse to, for whatever reason), and therefore we bring out the worst in each other. Keep this in mind while reading^^)

Keeho:

I think he might sometimes be too dismissive or seem like he doesn't value your feelings enough (especially if you're a very emotional person). If you're someone who puts a lot of emphasis on how a situation makes you feel inside, he might go over that aspect too quick and prefer to look at it from a more logical perspective. This isn't per se a toxic trait, but it's something that can cause trouble if you don't communicate how you feel and what's important to you! However, I also think he's very mature and understanding, so once you tell him how you feel, he will give you the space to talk about the things that are important to you.

Theo:

First of all, Theo isn't judgemental. IF he were to judge you for something, it'd be more in a friendly teasing kind of way where he gives you that judgy look one second, and then you both laugh about it the other. What I do think could be a problem with him is that he seems very doubtful. If you can't talk openly with him and you're the type to play mind games, he will immediately distrust you, because he simply can't read you (and he won't be very reactive to most kinds of manipulation I think, because he isn't the type to waste his energy on that). He needs someone who can talk to him honestly and be straightforward, and in that I actually think he isn't toxic at all, because he wouldn't get involved in a relationship where chances are high that it will get toxic in the first place.

Jiung:

Now this one's really difficult to answer because he's very cautious and seems like he would always think hard about everything he does and says so that he won't do anything wrong and express himself honestly. However, I think that this introversion and cautiousness might cause trouble if his s/o isn't patient enough with him, or fails to be understanding that he, a lot of the time, is simply slower than average. Then you will both just end up being frustrated with each other. You will most likely be the one to start showing that to him through snarky comments or lashing out on him (or however else you show you frustrations), and though he will try to be understanding of you first, you will inevitably overstep some of his boundaries and when Jiung yells at you out of anger, you know you have really upset him, very likely having caused irreversible damage to the relationship.

Intak:

I know a lot of people would probably think he's overconfident and that would be his toxic trait. And while I do think he can sometimes get full of himself, I also think this is more of a part of his idol persona than the part of his personality that would show in a personal relationship. I think the biggest problem with him might be that he tends to get lost in his feelings. And while that is something that's probably important to himself for figuring out how he feels about things, it can become a problem in a relationship if he can't regulate that. Because when his own feelings overwhelm him, he might fail to understand and empathize with the other person about the most critical things, and someone is bound to be upset. However, he is also a very understanding and kind person, but I think that especially in very close relationships, he might sometimes put too little weight on the other person's opinions and emotions etc. if he's too blinded by his own feelings.

Soul:

He lives in his own world, and though that can be very fascinating for other people, it might also end up creating problems. He strikes me as the type of person to put his dreams before anything else - even other people, and some might see that as a negative thing. If your values aren't similar to his, a close relationship simply will not happen. And if it somehow happens anyway, but then later on your values clash, he will stand his ground and not let himself be convinced to think differently. This can seem toxic to some, and though he might have moments where he wants to talk it out and find a solution, I think in the end it's very likely the relationship will fall apart because of these fundamental differences.

Jongseob:

He's an overthinker. He's prone to creating problems in his head where there are none, and then be too afraid to talk about them because he thinks it's expected of him to take care of everything himself (which is obviously not how a relationship works). This can lead to a lot of frustration for both of you, but more for him, to the point he might feel resentment towards either himself or you. At the same time I think he will grow out of that as he gets older - at least partly. I think if his s/o can get him to trust them and put some of the baggage into their hands, there will be a way to work through this together and for him to learn how to resolve problems together and not take on all the responsibility himself.

[fiveraccoonsinatrenchcoat]

Romeo And Juliet (Or Some Other Romantic Shit Like That) Ch. 8

Eddie Munson x f!reader

Series Description: The Saturday night slot at The Hideout is open, and Corroded Coffin thought they were a shoo-in. When it goes to a different band, however, Eddie becomes more than a little distracted by their pretty bassist.

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

Chapter Description: Eddie extends a few olive branches in a few different directions.

Warnings: language, smoking mention, kermit the frog

Word Count: 3668

Notes: I think I got the layout of Eddie's room kinda wrong but I mostly don't care

It sort of felt like the air in the small living space had about half as much oxygen as it was supposed to. Gareth’s eyes were darting between you and Eddie, Eddie’s eyes were darting between you and Gareth, and your eyes were staring wide at Gareth as if he was the grim reaper coming to collect you.

Shit. 

Shit!

The frying pan Eddie was holding, made slippery by a layer of dish soap, fell out of his hands and landed the sink with a crash, slicing through the suffocating silence. You released a startled yelp and jumped about half a foot out of your chair at the sound, throwing a hand across your mouth.

“Sorry, sorry!” Eddie was quick in his attempt to placate you. He turned his head toward his wide eyed bandmate, who was giving him a look that could only have been read as ‘what the absolute fuck is going on’ and nodded towards the door. The pair of them walked out and sat on the wooden steps that led up to the door of the trailer. 

Gareth and Eddie had shared many difficult conversations on these steps; at eleven years old, Gareth was the first person Eddie told when he had found out that his mother was a lot sicker than they thought she was. Gareth came out to Eddie at thirteen in this very spot. These days it was usually late at night and paired with a cigarette or two, but it was an unspoken rule that Eddie’s stoop was always neutral ground. They could say their piece and know the other wouldn’t judge them for it. 

“That’s a. . . new development,” Gareth stated. Eddie could tell he was embarrassed for walking in on the two of them.

“Yeah,” Eddie said. He had his forearms resting on his knees and his face pointed at the yellowed grass. “It actually isn’t all that new.”

“What do you mean?” Gareth questioned. Eddie let out a sigh in response. He knew he’d have to tell his friends about this at some point, but he’d really hoped he’d have some control over the conversation when it inevitably occurred. “How long have you guys been, y’know, whatever that was?”

“Almost two months,” Eddie admitted. 

“Wh-dude!” Gareth blurted out. “Two months?!”

“I know! I’m sorry, I know I should’ve told you from the start, it’s just-”

“We’ve never kept secrets from each other, Eddie,” Gareth interrupted him. Eddie could hear the hurt coating his voice. “You always tell me everything. Usually in too much detail.”

Eddie huffed out a small laugh at that. It was true; he and Gareth left no stone unturned when it came to recounting their nights during their post-party, Sunday morning debriefs, and Gareth knew more about Eddie and all of his embarrassing hookups than either party would care to admit. 

“I’m sorry,” Eddie said after a moment’s silence. “She wanted to keep it under wraps for as long as we could, but it kind of spiraled out of control last night, and-”

Eddie could feel the pinpricks of tears start once again. Great. That anchor of guilt settled itself in him again, weighing him down into his spot on the splintering wood, and he could practically feel Gareth’s eyes go wide once again at the cracks in his voice. Gareth had seen him cry plenty of times, Eddie would be the first to admit it, but this time they seemed to come entirely out of nowhere. Neither of them were prepared for it.

“Eddie,” Gareth broke through the silence first. “What happened?”

Eddie recounted the last few months with you, and the events of last night (leaving out certain details, of course). He told Gareth that you and Tonya had gotten into a bitter fight, because of him. He told Gareth how you’d sequestered yourself all alone in the greenroom, because of him. He told Gareth how upset you’d gotten, because of him.

He told Gareth that you had gotten kicked out of your band.

Because of him. 

“First of all,” Gareth began. “None of this is your fault, okay?”

“How?” Eddie asked. There was a sticky layer of self pity in his voice, he knew it, but he didn’t care. “She got kicked out because Tonya saw her with me, how is that not-”

“She got kicked out because Tonya’s a possessive narcissist with wildly out of control anger issues,” Gareth said. “How they could stand being around her for this long, I don’t know, but this isn’t about you. Not really.”

“It’s not?” Eddie inquired with a disbelieving, almost sarcastic lilt in his voice. 

“From what you said, it sounds like Tonya was just waiting for her moment to strike. She was gonna try to get her out any way she could,” Gareth said. “She just saw you as an opportunity and decided to take it.”

Logically that all made sense. Eddie knew your fight with Tonya had been long sitting anger finally boiling over, but saying it out loud didn’t really make him feel like he was any less at fault. He scrubbed at his eyes, willing them to just dry back up, and really wished he’d grabbed a pack of smokes on his way out. 

“Look, it sounds like something like this was bound to happen between them at some point,” Gareth attested. “Maybe it’s a good thing it’s happening now, and not in two years after it’s had time to brew into something worse.”

“It still feels like it was my fault,” Eddie muttered with a shrug. He stood up and turned towards the door. 

“Hey,” Gareth said, pulling Eddie’s attention away from the door. “I understand why you kept this a secret, but I promise we wouldn’t have said anything.”

“I know, I just,” Eddie responded before trailing off. In all honesty, he really didn’t have much justification for keeping this from his bandmates. He trusted them with everything. “I was just scared.”

“Of what?” Gareth was standing now, too. 

“Losing her, I think.”

“God,” Gareth said with a smile. “You’ve gone soft on me, haven’t you?”

“What? No! I have not gone soft!” Eddie tried to defend himself. He had a smile just as wide.

“Oh, dude, you totally have,” Gareth doubled down. “You’re literally blushing at the thought of her.”

“I am not!” He absolutely was, and trying to deny it was only making his face grow hotter. Gareth clapped a hand on his shoulder. 

“She’s turning you into a fuckin’ teddy bear,” Gareth laughed.

“She has not!”

The pair walked back into the trailer, and while the awkward tension had most definitely thinned, there was still a very strange vibe in the air as Gareth gave you a small wave.

“Hey,” he said to you. “I’m, uh, I’m Gareth.”

“Hi,” you said back, returning his wave and introducing yourself. 

“Sorry about, y’know, your band,” Gareth said.

“Sorry about turning your lead singer into a teddy bear.” You’d clearly been eavesdropping. 

“Oh, my god!” Eddie exclaimed. He threw his hands up in defense. “I am not a teddy bear! I have not gone soft!”

“You sure about that?” you asked him with a giggle. 

“Who’s side are you on, here?!”

With that, things felt almost like they were back to normal. You and Gareth seemed to get along, much to the relief of Eddie, and you were laughing and smiling again. Gareth left soon after that, making Eddie promise to call him on his way out, and silence fell once again. It was almost noon when the kitchen had been cleaned up, and you and Eddie planted yourselves on the couch. 

Now that the distracting prospect of a new friend had worn off, though, your thoughts were suddenly very occupied by the fact that your life was still seemingly going to shit.

“You alright?” Eddie asked from beside you. You stayed quiet for a moment and pulled your legs underneath yourself before breaking the silence.

“I don’t have any clothes,” you said, very matter-of-factly.

“What?” Eddie asked, confused.

“All I have are these pajamas and what I wore on stage last night,” you clarified. “I have no clothes.”

“Well, you’ve got lots of clothes back at your apartment,” Eddie told you. You let out a melodramatic groan at that, dropping your head into your arms against the side of the couch. “Baby, you can’t just hide from Jessa for the rest of your life, and as much as I would love having you around all the time, I have a sinking feeling my uncle would be less than thrilled about you staying here forever. He barely has enough space as it is.”

“I know,” you whined, voice muffled by your arms against the edge of the sofa. You lifted your head just enough for you to be able to make eye contact with Eddie. “But she’s gonna walk on eggshells around me and talk to me like I’m some little kid and I really don’t want to deal with that. It makes me feel tiny and weak, and the last thing I need right now is to feel more tiny and weak than I already do.”

“That may be true, but my statement still stands,” Eddia responded, crossing his arms. “She’s your best friend. I know for a fact that she’s only looking out for you.”

You stayed put on the couch with your arms wrapped around your head. You were beginning to freeze up again, too wrapped up in your own thoughts to be able to get anywhere. Eddie was about to pick you up and move you himself before you spoke up again.

“I just need a second to figure out what the hell I’m gonna say to her,” you requested. “I need to. . . figure out what’s happening in my own head before I can deal with what’s going on in her’s.”

“Well that second can probably only last like, two days, maximum,” Eddie said. “Then Wayne’ll start getting all bitchy about it, and I really need him to like you.”

“You think he won’t like me?” you asked, panicked.

“No, no! I mean, yes! Fuck,” Eddie backtracked. “I do think that he’ll like you. He’s just a hardass and he worries about me too much and I don’t want him to think you’re, like, a bad influence on me, or something.”

“Aw, you think I’m a bad influence on you?” you asked him with an amused grin. That made him smile.

“No! I just-” he cut himself off. “Stop backing me into corners!”

You laughed at how flustered you could get him, and Eddie started to really like the idea of hearing the sound for the rest of his life. 

“Look, bad influence or not,” you said. “I’d really prefer not to meet him in my middle-school Muppet pj’s.”

“I think he’d love them, actually,” Eddie prodded you. 

“Wayne’s a Muppet guy, huh?” you inquired with a smile.

“Oh, yeah,” Eddie answered. “I had a very Muppet heavy childhood.”

“That makes sense, I think,” you said.

“I feel like I should be taking that as an insult.”

“It’s not one, I promise,” you assured him. “I mean, I’m literally covered in tiny Kermits right now.”

“Good point,” Eddie said as he got up from the couch. “Alright, I’m gonna go shower and then we can figure out how we’re gonna do this, okay?”

You nodded to him in response, and Eddie disappeared into his room. Once you heard the bathroom door shut and the water start to run, you decided to take a break from your sulking in favor of snooping through Eddie’s room.

You had never actually seen Eddie’s place before last night, and now, looking at his room with a much clearer head, it definitely lived up to what you had pictured.

Of course, his beloved guitar was displayed front and center. There were a million different posters, and a big handmade Corroded Coffin flag was pinned up among them. You wondered if he’d been the one to come up with the design of the jagged red and black lettering. 

You continued to poke around the room, though you quickly became distracted by the sight of his record collection. You began flipping through albums and, while most of what you saw seemed to be pretty in line with the sorts of things you thought you would find, there was one near the very end of the pile that caught your eye. 

You heard Eddie come back into his room just as you pulled the album out to examine it. Sure enough, your eyes did not deceive you. 

“What are you doing?” Eddie asked you with a grin. 

“I thought you said you didn’t like The Slits?” you questioned. You turned around and held up a copy of 1979’s Cut. It was one of your favorites.

“I don’t, really. It’s a little too experimental for my tastes,” Eddie said as he dug through his dresser with his back turned to you. He whipped his head around to face you with a grin. “But, come on, have you seen that cover? That alone was enough to blow my fourteen year old mind. How could I not get it?”

You hummed in agreement. You were pretty sure that seeing Viv Alberteen on that cover, coated in mud and ready to fight anyone in her way, changed your life forever.

“Y’know,” Eddie started up again. “I actually went back and listened to it again not that long ago after you mentioned them.”

“Oh, yeah?” you asked him. Eddie could see the excitement in your eyes. “What’d you think this time?”

“Still not quite my thing. I can appreciate it more now, though,” Eddie responded.

“Do you have a favorite?” you asked with a giddiness comparable to a child on Christmas morning. “Off the album?”

“What’s the one about them stealing shit?”

“Shoplifting?” you asked him. 

“Yeah, that one,” he said. “That one’s fun.”

“I can see that one being your favorite,” you agreed with a smile. 

“It really makes you feel like you're being chased down the street by a cop,” Eddie described. “Not that I would know what that’s actually like, or anything.”

“Oh no, of course not,” you said, playing into his sarcasm. “God, I wish I could scream like she can.”

“Me, too,” Eddie said. He pulled a t-shirt over his head. “What about you? What’s your favorite?”

“Ping Pong Affair,” you answered quickly. “It’s not trying to be sappy or self pitying like other breakup songs. They don’t sugarcoat any of it.”

Eddie finished getting dressed. You put the record on, though you purposefully kept the volume turned down low, and sat yourself on the edge of Eddie’s bed.

The two of you decided that you were going to give Eddie a list of things you needed for the next couple of days, and he would go over to your apartment and retrieve them. You needed your meds and some clothes, yes, but this was also going to act as an espionage mission of sorts. You were sending Eddie behind enemy lines to see where Jessa’s head was at so you could plan out your next move.

Eddie did not like this plan one bit. He didn’t like that you weren’t going to come with him (on that, you wouldn’t budge), or the fact that he felt a bit like he was walking right into the mouth of the dragon. He knew that Harriette and Jessa, while not nearly as vitriolic as Tonya, were at the very least suspicious of him, and he knew that having to tell Jessa that you were purposefully avoiding her was a possible death sentence. 

All you had to do was shoot some very potent puppy dog eyes his way and he agreed. He didn’t like it, but he agreed.

Your apartment building, though it wasn’t all that old, seemed a little bit like it was crumbling at the seams. It was in a neighborhood that even Eddie tended to avoid at night, and was pushed out into the very outskirts of Hawkins. It backed right up against a railyard, so train horns blared through all hours of the night, and there was a consistent low grumble that sounded deep through the building as the locomotives went by. You’d told Eddie that you didn’t mind the noise because it kept the rent low.

Eddie paused outside your apartment door. The fact that he was able to just waltz into the building concerned him, but that was a problem for another time. He took a breath before knocking.

It took a moment for Jessa to open the door, and she looked worse for the ware when she did. Her black curls were frizzy in the haphazard bun they were tied up in, and it looked like she’d had been crying just as much as you had. She opened the door with a look of concern, which quickly transformed into confusion when she saw that it was Eddie on the other side.

“Oh,” she said, surprised. “Hi.”

“Hey,” Eddie greeted back. He felt incredibly out of place, despite having been there several times before. Jessa quickly looked down the hallway, though he was the only one standing there.

“Is she with you?” she inquired.

“No, she’s still back at mine.”

“Okay,” Jessa was clearly less than thrilled by Eddie’s answer. 

“Look, I know this is weird, but-” Eddie was interrupted.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Jessa said with a bite in her voice. “But, why are you here?”

“She wants to stay with me for a couple days,” Eddie explained.

“What?” 

“She, uh,” Eddie was hating every second of this. “I think she’s just really fucking embarrassed about everything, y’know? I mean, I don’t blame her, I would be, too, and I am, because this is kind of all my fault, and-”

“Alright, Romeo, could you just get to the point please?” Jessa asked exasperatedly. 

“She just wants you to know that she’s okay, that’s all,” Eddie said. “She’s just trying to think all of this through.”

Jessa looked at Eddie hard. It felt like being a lab specimen under a microscope. 

“You still haven’t actually answered my question,” Jessa snapped. “This conversation could have been a phone call. What are you doing here?”

“She wanted me to grab a few things for her,” Eddie explained further. He was determined not to give in to Jessa’s animosity. “Clothes, toothbrush, y’know.”

“Oh,” Jessa said. Her aggressive stance deflated a little bit. “Right, sorry. Come on in.”

Jessa moved to the side and Eddie gave her a curt nod as he passed. 

Eddie really loved your apartment, but it felt odd to be there without you. It was far from welcoming now, and the usually comforting atmosphere of incense smoke and cinnamon just gave him a headache. Puffin eyed him from the corner and gave a harsh ‘mrwrow!’ at the sight of Eddie. He made sure to work quickly in gathering up everything you’d requested; Jessa was watching his every move like a hawk and he really wanted to get the hell out of there. 

Thankfully, everything was easily found, and Eddie was able to make it through the list in just a few minutes. He did one last sweep of your room to see if there was anything he had missed, and made the executive decision to add one more thing that you hadn’t specifically asked for right on the top of the small duffle bag he’d brought. 

“Hey,” Jessa said to him just as he was going to leave. She had her arms crossed in front of her and a look on her face that made Eddie feel like he was about to be sent to detention. “Tonya’s out. For good.”

“Really?” Eddie asked.

“Mhm,” Jessa confirmed. “Harriette and I already told her, and she lost her complete and utter shit, but she’s out.”

“I’ll let her know,” Eddie said with a small smile. He turned his back once more, but-

“We want her on vocals,” Jessa added. “Lead, not just backing. If she wants to come back.”

Eddie thanked Jessa and left. 

When Eddie got back to his trailer, he found you sitting on his bed flipping through a pile of old drawings.

“Oh, god,” Eddie sighed. “Where did you even find those? I thought I hid them away forever.”

“They’re good!” you insisted.

“They absolutely are not,” he chided back as he tossed the bag onto the bed next to you. You abandoned the papers, careful to keep them from falling to the floor, and opened the bag. You couldn’t wait to get out of these goddamn pajamas.

Eddie heard a small gasp as you opened the bag.

“You brought Mr. Moo?”

The last thing that Eddie had grabbed was a small, stuffed, brown-spotted cow that you kept proudly displayed on your bed. Eddie knew you cared for it; you always made sure to carefully place him on your desk before the pair of you threw yourselves into the sheets. You would even make sure to turn him so he faced the wall, as to maintain his bovine modesty. 

“His name is Mr. Moo?” Eddie asked with a laugh. 

“Don’t make fun of him!” you said and covered his little felt ears, the tiny horns peeking out from under your hands. Eddie’s heart melted at the sight.

“I’m not making fun of him!” Eddie defended. “That’s fuckin’ adorable, actually.”

You held Mr. Moo tightly as you got up from the bed. You practically threw yourself at Eddie and wrapped your arms tightly around him. Eddie could feel the cow tucked against his shoulder and, in that moment, decided he was going to do everything in his power to keep you wrapped around him for the rest of his life.

“Does your apartment door have a deadbolt?” he asked against your hair. You turned your eyes up to his.

“Yeah, why?”

“I’m buying you another one.”

Tiny Little Taglist: @wickedslashdivine @youareadistraction @bubbles-is-my-thing @music-is-my-only-reality @heavenkiss @aedicn @grungegrrrl @moviefreak1205

[sukirichi]

reckless [02.]

With a lackadaisical playboy as your boss, being reckless wasn’t an option. But on the one time you let loose and made mistakes, your life is shattered, and now you’re playing house with your insufferable boss who is the father of your baby.

✘ cw. angst, toxic situations

✘ note. yes, feel free to scream at me in the asks. but like don’t worry, i promise there’s more to come and there’s more to happen! it’s going to get fluffier as we go hehehehe. ALSO, I can’t help but feel that Zayn’s “Let Me” speaks perfectly to CEO playboy Gojo. hmph.

one  ✘  two  ✘  three 

One glance at the tall man beside you, and you would’ve thought he would pass out soon.

Satoru had been endlessly fidgety hours before the appointment. Flicking from music stations to another, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel or sighing at the sight of you calmly watching the city go by in a flash – it was clear he was restless. Judging from the dark circles he tried to conceal under a pair of shades, he probably hadn’t slept much last night as well.

Now that you were both inside the clinical room, with you laying back down on the reclined bed, belly exposed and all for him to marvel at, his knee hadn’t stopped bouncing. “Satoru, calm down. It’s just a doctor’s appointment.”

“Sorry,” he apologized sheepishly, rubbing his sweaty palms on his pants. “I’m just…excited yet nervous, you know? It feels so real now.”

Real didn’t begin to cover it. Although you masked your nervous quite well, you felt your stomach tighten when a woman came in. Her smile was gentle and comforting enough, talking you both through the process and spilling little fun facts about pregnancy. She applied a cool gel over your belly before turning to a screen, where mixed dots and waves of black and white blurred in front of your visions. Your eyes widened in awe, throat dry from the inability to speak. The baby had always felt real, but seeing it with your own two eyes, a small figure barely even a comprehensible shape in the screen, you couldn’t help but tear up a little.

“That’s mine?” Satoru breathed out, absentmindedly looping his hands through yours. It made you stiffen for a quick second, but your attention was quickly pulled back to the sonogram. “We made that?”

Your heart clenched at his words.

He sounded so happy – like all his dreams came true and you’d just given him a gift that was beyond priceless. You supposed it really was; a baby was always a miracle and joy to have, but this child wasn’t made out of love. How could he have so much fondness for something he didn’t want in the first place?

“The baby is perfectly healthy. This pregnancy doesn’t seem like a high-risk one, but it’s too early to tell so we’ll keep checking in on you,” the doctor pushed her glasses back to her nose, the sound of her cool voice pulling you back from a dangerous path of self-doubt and wariness. “Do you guys want to know the gender?”

Glancing at Satoru, you shook your head. It was amusing that you didn’t need to share words before he got the meaning behind one look, and he squeezed your hand as if to say he understood.

“I’d like that to be more of a surprise. Thank you, doctor.”

“Congratulations on being a father, Sir,” she bowed, and it occurred to you just now she was probably a family doctor. Satoru did end up keeping his promise that your pregnancy be kept private for a while. This little detail made you turn to him with shock written all over your face, though his attention was centred in on the swirling monochrome colours on the screen. Whether the doctor noticed the brewing tension between you two or not, you were still gad when they bowed once more to excuse themselves. “I’ll leave you two to talk now.”

The moment she was gone, you sat up and pushed your blouse down. Satoru’s demeanour had changed as well. His smile was wiped from his face, replaced only by a slight downturn of his lips.

Sighing, you swung your legs over the bed, not minding one bit that he was inches away from resting his chin onto your thighs. “Is there something you’re not telling me? You’ve been so worried since we got here.”

Satoru winced.

“Am I that obvious?”

“Even if you aren’t, it’s not that hard to see through you,” you spoke gently, a spirit possessing you because there would’ve been no other logical reason on why you placed a palm over his. Satoru’s hands were warm and large as he cupped your knee, tracing little patterns over your jeans as he kept his gaze lowered to the floor. It was an odd sight to see; that the Gojo Satoru refused to look a woman in the eye. “Tell me. What’s wrong?”

Satoru’s sigh is painfully drawn out, though his chuckles took the brunt.

“I don’t know what to do – how to be a father, I mean. Don’t you ever get worried…that maybe we might fuck up and ruin someone’s life?”

“Hey,” you cupped his cheek, forcing him to look you in the eyes – which you really wished he didn’t, because you’d never seen such azure this up close before. It was no secret that his eyes alone stole the hearts of people, but you had to remind yourself he broke them as well, so that you pulled away right before he got too close for comfort. It wasn’t what he needed anyway. Satoru simply required reassurance, so you opted for an awkward pat on the shoulder. “Weren’t you the one telling me the other day we’ll work it out?”

“Yeah, but…”

“But what?”

“It’s nothing,” he shook his head, a smile lighting up his features once more. “Are you feeling good? There’s someplace I want to take you, as a celebration for our healthy baby.”

You pursed your lips. As much as you appreciated his enthusiasm, this ‘celebration’ didn’t sound like a good idea. You’ve made mistakes before and now you lived the consequence of it; being reckless was outdated. Caution, wariness, and space were the top three perfect recipes for the complete opposite of a disaster.

“I don’t think that’s necessary.”

“Why not?” he challenged, taking your hand in his as he guided you out the clinic. You made no comment on why he led you out the back where he’d parked his car, even going as far to bow for you as he opened your door. “Liven up a little, we got good news today! Plus, we didn’t both take a day for nothing. Come on, you’re going to have fun, I promise you!”

“And where would we go where people won’t recognize you?”

“Somewhere people are too lost in their own world to focus on others,” Satoru announced before sending you a side glance, smooth hands already on their way to rev the engine.

This wouldn’t go down well. Or at least that was what you wanted to believe, because his smile and excitement were too contagious that you couldn’t restrain the smile you wore.

“A carnival? Really? We’re too old for this.”

“We’re never too old for anything,” he insisted, placing his hands on your shoulders as he maneuvered from stall to stall. Everywhere around you, children and people of all ages milled by, laughter and screams that fading into the distance. One survey at the long, endless lines for the rides and crowded spaces, you grimaced, feeling an uncomfortable weight resting on your shoulders that was beyond Satoru’s hands. “Aw, come on, don’t be such a bore. Day offs like these are rare and think about the baby! Don’t you think they would’ve wanted us to get a long?”

“You’re just using the baby as an excuse to have fun.”

Of course he would – Gojo Satoru was like a man-child. Whether it was someone randomly bringing donuts or puppies into the office, he easily lit up like a firework, seemingly finding joy in every little thing. Being stuck in the office and forced to work his ass off under your supervision must’ve taken a toll on him too.

Add on the fact he hadn’t gone out on dates or parties ever since he found out he was going to be a dad, the desperation to go out and do something was written all over his face.

Satoru pouted. “That’s mean. Take that back.”

“No.”

“And I’m the childish one here?” he snickered. You merely rolled your eyes at him and gave in; too much time spent working and not enough time relaxing (not that being a carnival was your definition or relaxation, but alas, Satoru was dragging you around everywhere like always) wouldn’t be good for the baby.

“You see that bear over there? I’m going to win that for you. It could be my first ever present for our baby.”

There was no stopping him. You didn’t want to, either, because you just stood there, arms crossed against your chest as you let him do whatever he pleased. A literal man-child, a youthful soul stuck in an irritatingly attractive man’s body – these were the thoughts that ran through your head while Satoru kept swinging his arm back and forth. He chose a stall where you had to knock down stacks of cans down with one set of three balls, all because he wanted to win a bear. You would really rather go home than watch him fail four times now, but he wasn’t giving up, only flexing his shoulders before gesturing to the young man.

“Hey man, three more balls please.”

Nothing was funny about it at all. Watching your boss fail miserably even after ten tries shouldn’t have been so hilarious, yet sweat was dripping all over his face and his patience was hanging on a loose thread that you were giggling before you knew it.

His usual confident bravado began to tear down bit by bit, his face flushed from the sounds of your teasing.

“Satoru, stop,” you laughed, “We’ve been here for twenty minutes and your wallet might as well be empty! You can just go buy a bear at the mall.”

“You’re too functional. Where would be the meaning behind it if I just bought a random bear?” he huffed, pushing the sleeves of his denim jacket up to his elbows. Determined now more than ever, he even stretched his long arms side to the side with a shake of his hips. You could tell the young man manning the stall was hiding his amusement by whistling to himself, but Satoru really was such a ridiculous sight you couldn’t blame him. “No, I’m going to get that for you, then I’ll brag to my baby how cool their dad was when he knocked those cans down.”

“You mean, if you knock those cans down.”

His shoulders deflated. “Support me a little bit, will you?”

“Hmm, I don’t know, it might just inflate your ego and you’ll be too distracted by yourself to ever actually knock those cans down,” He threw a ball with a force so strong it hit the curtain above the cans, and it bounced back somewhere below the tables. It didn’t even touch the can by a smidge, and you snorted. “See what I mean?”

Expecting that Satoru would take insult to heart (as his ego was easily wounded, this much you knew when he refused to talk to anyone at the office for a whole day because one of his directors forgot his name) you smirked at him, but that smirk immediately dropped when he grinned back at you. He was no longer wimpy like before, an aura of confidence brimming from him. “That’s like the second time you’ve told me I was distracting,” he mused, leaving you baffled because he was right. “On the contrary, I think you’rea lot more distracting, so I take that back. Just stand there and watch me win.”

“Okay,” you drawled out in faux disinterest, thankful for the corny carnival music and chatter from the crowd that he couldn’t hear your poor beating heart.

You were too focused on pretending to be unbothered by him that you failed to see how the cans were knocked down. The counter guy was already picking them up as Satoru pumped his fists in the air, way too much like a child high on sugar.

Was this really the father of your baby?

“I won! I fucking won! That huge brown bear, please!”Satoru’s smile from holding the bear that was half his size couldn’t even compare to the city lights and sparklers. Even his eyes were lit up in joy as he skipped back to you, happily waving the doe-eyed bear in front of you. At your lack of reaction, he sighed before jutting his cheek out to you. “No congratulations kiss?”

“How about a slap?”

“Kinky,” he teased, sending your brain to overheat when he tapped his chin in thought. “Well, you did make my back bleed so I kind of got the idea you’re sort of extreme in bed – ow! Would you please stop hitting me? I just won you a wonderful prize and your first reaction is to hit me! This arm is exhausted from swinging endlessly, you know.”

“Maybe if you aimed better, you wouldn’t have had to exhaust yourself. Like I said, you could’ve just bought a bear,” you scolded, raising your arm threateningly when he opened his mouth again. Idiot. “Give me that.”

Satoru effortlessly swung the bear until it was under your chins, his white lashes ethereal as he peeked at you through them. He was close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath dusting on your cheeks, that same warmth that had been mixing with yours in a sloppy, heated kiss just weeks ago. “And who said I was letting you carry this?” he taunted, thoroughly enjoying how for once, you weren’t hitting him.“I’m supposed to wave this around proudly then place it in our baby’s room when we get home. Besides, your hand looks heavy already.”

“My hands? Wait, what do you mean our baby’s room?”

At your words and questioning gaze, Satoru did a quick turn, trying to use the bear as a shield.

“Yeah, I forgot to tell you,” he scratched the back of his head awkwardly, “I may or may not have had my parents’ guest room renovated as a baby room, although if you ask me, I think moving somewhere else would be much better. Raising a child in a penthouse doesn’t seem like such a great idea if you ask me,” opening your mouth to scold him, Satoru stopped you by placing a finger on your lips, noses grazing against each other. “Don’t scold me right now; I know that look on your face and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, okay? We can still decorate it ourselves. I just had the beds removed and the space cleaned out. Now stop over thinking and let me help you with your problem.”

You pushed his face away for the sake of your heart. In fact, you should be paid for your acting skills for looking so unaffected.

“What problem?”

“Your hands look heavy,” he beamed, long fingers looping through yours as he swayed them side to side. “So let me carry it for you.”

“Satoru, I—”

“Don’t get me wrong,” he blinked innocently while surrendering his free hand, “I’m not doing this for you, it’s for the baby. Did you know oxytocin is released and makes you feel good and reduces pain, maybe even stress? We can pump your oxytocin levels through touch. It also lowers your blood pressure, and we want you at your happiest and healthiest for this pregnancy, right?”

“Since when were you an expert on this?”

“Since I found out I’m becoming a dad,” his words struck you speechless, mouth pressed into a flat line as you stared him openly. You hadn’t mean to come off as rude in that moment; you were just trying to gauge the sincerity behind his words, to explore the depth in his eyes, but Satoru must’ve took it wrong as he cleared his throat, “I can let go if you really want me to.”

“N-no! It’s fine…can we move? We’ve been standing here for ten minutes now,” Embarrassed, you pointed to the closest thing in your sight – a photo booth. “How about there? That looks fun.”

Satoru followed where your arm was pointed, laughing when a couple exited the red curtains while giggling amongst themselves. The guy even leaned down to steal a long kiss from his lover, and if you were embarrassed before, you wanted to crawl into a hole and never come back again right now. “You know, if you wanted me to be stuck in a cramped space next to you, you could’ve just said so. I didn’t bring the limo with me, but the Audi could be pretty small for us, I guess…”

You hissed at him in warning, “God, you never shut up do you?”

“It made you smile.”

“I wasn’t smiling!”

“Sure, mommy, whatever you say,” bumping his hip with yours, Satoru led you inside the cube. There were a plethora of filters to choose from; ranging from heart frames and ones that placed shades on your face. Not really thinking of what to pick, you reached out to press the frog hats one, but Satoru was swatting your hands away for the effect with heart emojis everywhere. “This is cute. We can show this to our baby once they’re born.”

“They won’t really know what a Polaroid is, Satoru.”

“It’s still sentimental!” he grumbled before clicking the camera icon, a huge smile already on his face until he saw you squished on the other side of the booth. Only one side of your ear could be seen, and Satoru furrowed his brows at you. “Come closer, you’ll be cropped from the frame.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Jesus, Y/N, don’t act shy now, I already fucked a baby into you,” mouth falling open at the vulgarity of his words, Satoru took the chance to drag you beside him. “Relax, you’re always so stiff. Our baby might come out frowning if you keep huffing like that.”

“You’re too close for comfort.”

“My apologies, I’ll try not to be included in the photo when you’re the one who suggested this in the first place,” he muttered playfully, booping your nose before he wrapped an arm around your shoulder. He was close, too close, that his musky perfume filled the close space. You wanted to lean closer to his warmth and sturdiness of his broad shoulders; his mere presence bringing about a sense of tranquillity despite your words. You told yourself it shouldn’t be too bad to lean into him for just a little while, absentmindedly following him as he cheers, “Smile!”

One photo turned into two, and Satoru ended up inserting a few more bills into the slot to take more. He tried out as many filters as he wanted, acting as if you two had been long time friends from how easy it was for him to be around you like that.

You supposed it came from his heavy experience with women. You were so unlike; while he was open to touch and didn’t care too much about space, you craved it deliriously.

It was obvious none of this meant anything to Satoru. You were probably just another woman in his life, with the exception that you had a kid, but you couldn’t mean something more. If anything, he treated you more like an old friend than a lover. He’d said it himself before that you weren’t his type and you didn’t mind, so why did it hurt the longer you mulled about it? Sure, you may not be as attractive or luxurious as his previous lovers, but did you really not even have charismatic pull? Is it because you weren’t his type that he was so casual with you, while you on the other hand, felt like you would lose your mind at every little thing he did?

You watched as Satoru pulled out his wallet and kept the Polaroid of you both grinning at the camera, forming a silly heart shape with your hands per his request. It was silly and platonic – yet the gesture confused you to no end.

“Why’d you do that?”

Satoru’s hand paused. “Am I not allowed to…?”

“We’re not lovers. You can’t just put a photo of us in your wallet.”

As if to prove a point, Satoru pulled out more photos of his wallet and showed it to you. There were several more wallet-sized photos, mostly of his white cat with black shades, another of him and his best friend, Shoko, and the last photo was of him skiing. They were all placed in his wallet along with a small, faded out photograph of what seemed to be his parents from the younger days. You couldn’t understand why he was showing you this, much less how patient he was as he smiled softly at you. “It’s memorabilia. I keep photos of everyone I care about everywhere with me,” he said, pocketing his wallet back before gazing up at the night sky. “I like to think we’re friends, at least. We’re definitely not just boss and employee anymore.”

Then what are we?

There were so many things you wanted to ask. You always knew he was always this overly friendly and nice, but what did make you? What did a friend mean to him? Other than Shoko, who was his lesbian friend who was also the company’s resident doctor, you’d never seen him be platonic with another female before.

The realization made your mood drop.

Maybe you were right. He probably didn’t even see you as a woman, but what did it matter? You didn’t like him. You shouldn’tlike him. Even if he had no intentions of wooing you, Gojo Satoru was far too appealing for his own good. Being around him was dangerous for your heart.

“Wanna ride the ferris wheel? The night city always looks beautiful.”

He was just your boss...and you were just a friend. Things were going to be alright as long as no feelings were involved. You survived seven years of working with him with not a single moment where your heart fluttered when he spoke your name; a baby made between you shouldn’t change anything now. At the end of the day, you were both only doing this out of responsibility. Satoru was trying his best to become a supportive co-parent to you, and that was all it ever would be. Strictly business – purely professional – as it always had been and always will be.

Foolish girl, you could hear a voice whisper at the back of your head, don’t get too lost in his eyes.

“Y/N, are you tired? Do you want to go home now? We can just order dinner to be delivered if you’re exhausted,” Satoru tugged at your sleeve to get your attention, and you chuckled awkwardly, not meaning to have spaced out the whole time. Worry was written all over his face from the way his brows dipped, stunning blue eyes darkening like the night sky you both made memories under.

Don’t look at me like that...

“Are you okay? Do you wanna go home?”

“Yeah,” you chirped far too brightly than you would’ve liked. Right now, it was more of a mission of fake it til you make it. You would just have to keep exerting the same amount of effort into making this work for the baby’s sake. And if that meant pushing aside any budding desire for this to last any longer to focus on your ‘friendship’, then you would do it. Taking Satoru’s hand for the first time since the baby ordeal, you flashed him a genuine smile. “The ferris wheel sounds nice. Let’s do some sightseeing before the night ends.”

Neither of you speak inside the cab. Beautiful the night was as the city shone into awakening illumination beneath you, comforting you with the thought that in the grand scheme of it all, you were small. Insignificant. That somehow everything you worried about wouldn’t matter when there was a much bigger world out there, and you were but a fickle dot in the middle of its entirety. But that was you, and Gojo lived in a much different world than you did. For somewhere in the city, you could recognize several of the sky towers, buildings, and establishments owned by his family. He mattered in the grand scheme; you were a small factor in his world.

Glancing back at the man who’d been silent the whole ride, you smiled upon seeing that he was doing the same. Satoru was practically bouncing in his seat as he snapped several photos of the city, mumbling something about he’d never seen this view before.

He was so innocent yet so out there, igniting within you an urge to take care of him and wanting to be taken care of by him.

You’d already accepted that you may just never have him that way. That small, fleeting crush was like a butterfly – pretty look at, but damn near impossible to catch. You’d already stopped crying yourself to sleep over the new changes brought about in your body, that in a few months’ time, you’d look back into everything and see that everything had changed. The mistakes you made that night were still something you regretted because you wished you could’ve done better, but seeing him right in front of you now, there was only gratefulness blooming within. Grateful that he was right by your side, grateful that at least the father of your child was more than capable of giving them a comfortable life, grateful that he didn’t push you away like you expected.

Acting more on impulse than logic, you leaned over to press your lips on his cheek.“Thank you,” you mumbled, eyes closed as you let your lips stay there for a few more seconds.

His skin was warm underneath your touch, and when you opened your eyes, Satoru was gazing up at you with stars twinkling in the vast galaxy he called his eyes. You smiled at his reaction, watching as he reached a palm out to caress that spot your lips had landed.“For what?”

“For everything,” you crumbled,“You’re not a bad person, Satoru, I know that,” with shuddered breaths, tears sprung at the back of your eyes again. “I’m sorry for being so difficult. I just need time to adjust to…well, all of this.” Your voice cracked at the last sentence and you were crying before you knew it, face hidden behind your palms in fear he’d look at you differently. In his eyes, you were always his stoic secretary who didn’t even bat an eye when people gave you backlash after Satoru hired you despite the lack of a college degree.

This all felt new – to cry, to trust, to rely on someone – and there was a flurry of emotions you couldn’t quite place yet.

Scooping you into his arms, Satoru patted your back as your cries grew louder. “Take all the time you need. We don’t have to rush into anything at all.”

In the harsh world of conglomerates where the laws of business blurred thinner and thinner with each day, it was hard to believe that not rushing into anything would be possible. It was always a flurry of hurried phone calls, frantic preparations for emergency meetings, anxiety over presenting new proposals and hoping that your superiors would sign your documents so you could go about your way. Time was as imperative as money was to them, but Satoru had proved he could be beyond that.

From the moment you met him, he never treated time as if it was something that slipped through his fingertips. He enjoyed every second he had of his life, and perhaps that was why you hated him so much in the first place.

You thought he took everything for granted, when in reality, all he did was bask in the little things life offered.

This much, at least, you trusted him with. If he said there would be no need to rush and you could both take it slow, he meant it. Around him, time felt more like a secret whisper than a treasure you both had to seize to protect. The night drifted off until it was already midnight and the crew was ushering all visitors out. You and Satoru made it home safely and quietly, hands linked together as if it was the most natural thing ever. No rush, you kept telling yourself, and you plopped down on the couch heavily as you let your muscles relax from such a long, eventful day.

You stayed there for a solid minute or so when you felt warm hands take your heels off. Opening your eyes, Satoru kneeled before you, his fingers expertly rubbing and pushing against the sore muscles of your feet. “Wh-what are you doing?”

“Your feet must be tired from all that walking,” he mumbled, looking up briefly to meet your eyes and tease your shoulder back. “Lean back for me. I’ll take care of you.”

Judging by the sentiment behind his smile, you figured it wouldn’t be harmful to enjoy this at least once. You’ve never gotten foot massages before but his hands kneading yours felt heavenly. You knew from experience beforehand that Satoru was quite godly when it came to the skills and magic his fingers brought, though this one was on a different level, and you were sinking deeper into the couch from the bliss. He was right; you were tired, and if having your boss massage you like this every night after dragging you wherever he pleased, then you wouldn’t complain.

The ringing of your phone made you sit up abruptly, surprising Satoru whose head you almost knocked into. “Sorry,” you croaked out sheepishly, “It’s my dad. I need to take this.”

“Do you need me to leave you alone?”

“Uh, no, you’re fine.”

Satoru gestured to your foot as you took the call, mouthing, “Should I continue?”

“Yes, please,” you answered back, palm pressed over the mic before you answered. “Hey, Dad!” Your father greeted you back with much enthusiasm, his energy heard even by Satoru who sent you small smiles and curious glances every now and then. A part of you wanted to ask if he was fine kneeling on the floor like that, but his knees were on the fur carpet anyway that it shouldn’t hurt him. He extended your leg and trailed up your calves, pulling a soft moan from you when he kneaded the flesh and rid it of its knots. His ministrations distracted you until you were nodding absentmindedly to your Dad every now and then, not really paying attention to what he was saying.

Then the call ended, and his last words kept ringing back into your head ominously. Satoru took quick notice of this as he tapped your knee, bringing your attention back to him. “Is something wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I...” you started, helplessly fumbling around Satoru. “My dad is in Tokyo. He said he wants to have dinner with me.”

“You don’t look particularly happy about that. Do you not want to meet your father?”

“I do but...”

“But?”

“I have to tell him about this,” you shivered, refracting your legs back to the couch until his touch disappeared from your skin. For a moment, you had the urge to crawl back to his heat, but you were restless, agitated. “About us. He’s going to want to meet you and I don’t want to hide the pregnancy from him either,” Satoru remained unmoving as you rambled, and you hid your face behind your arms again as you remembered the rules you asked him to follow. “Listen, I’m sorry if I sound unfair right now, I know I said I didn’t want anyone else knowing—”

Warm lips brushed over your knuckles, large hands peeling your wrists to reveal your face. “Hey, it’s fine. He’s family and you can tell him. It’s not like your Dad would ruin your image or something like you expected to happen.”

“He won’t but...” you frowned, “My dad isn’t going to like this. I can’t guarantee he’ll be civil the whole time, especially towards you.”

“You told him about me?”

“A few years ago, yeah, when I still couldn’t tolerate you.”

“So you can tolerate me now?”

“Only a little bit,” you corrected, pushing his hands away as you opened your phone to check your schedule. It was mostly Satoru’s schedule, truth be told, but you were free for the most part tomorrow. Satoru could just longue back in his office while you clocked out early to meet your dad. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to. On second thought, he doesn’t have to know at all. I’m only a few weeks in and it’s not like he’ll notice—”

“Y/N,” Satoru interrupted you, rudely snatching his phone from your shaking fingers. You would’ve scolded him had he not sounded so worried. “I did promise I would take responsibility for you, right? I want to meet your dad and introduce myself properly. As a father-to-be, I think I can somewhat understand that he might react strongly to this, but I also need to reassure him you’re in safe hands,” taking your hand in his, Satoru leaned into your palm, the smile he wore way too charming than what your heart could handle. “As long as you’re okay with it, I would like to meet him.”

“I’m sorry if he does something stupid.”

“Don’t be,” he reassured with a chuckle. “I’m sure everything will go well.”

It didn’t go well. Your father wasn’t throwing a fit or causing a scene like you originally feared, but the current situation wasn’t any better either. He looked like he was on the verge of tearing Satoru’s head apart, his grip on the bread knife so tight his knuckles flashed white. Your father was the literal definition of unpredictable and out of nervousness, you held Satoru’s hand under the table for comfort.

In complete opposition of yours, Satoru handled it with class and composure. His head was ducked down in respect, making sure to be curt and precise in counters to your father’s harsh accusations.

“I’m really sorry for everything, Sir.”

“Did you ruin my daughter’s life?”

Satoru finally tilted his head back up to look your father in the eye, both your hands turning cold and sweaty in between the seats. “Pardon?”

“I asked if you ruined my daughter���s life by getting her pregnant.”

“I would never intend for that to happen, Sir,” Satoru straightened up. From your perspective, he looked every bit the man parents would want their children to be with – handsome, elegant, educated, polite, respectful and well-off – but your father was no ordinary parent. He sized Satoru up like a predator hunting his prey even as the latter acted cool about it. “Granted, it was an accident and neither of us are prepared for this, but I promise I’ll take care of her. I take responsibility as the father and you have nothing to worry about.”

Your dad slammed his palms down on the table, the loud smack catching the attention of nearby tables. “How dare you tell me I have nothing to worry about?”

“Dad, please don’t do this.”

“No, he needs to know,” he snapped. Unable to help it, you groaned inwardly and scooted closer to Satoru, knowing where this was leading. “I lost her mother right after she was born; raised her by myself when I was barely out from high school. Rich men like you may never understand the struggles of taking care of a baby all by yourself, but I did everything I could to make sure she grew up well. My daughter had a happy, comfortable life. When she told me she wanted to follow her dreams in Tokyo, I supported her, and then you go take everything away from her because you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself? You dare defile her like that?”

“Dad!” you roared, clutching Satoru’s hand who’d gone limp. “It was equally my responsibility as it is his! I wanted this; we both got carried away but we’re doing our best, so please stop being difficult to us.”

“You wanted this?” he laughed dryly, “A child with this man you kept moaning to me about; the same man who went to clubs every night while he left you all by yourself to work, to clean up his mess from him? You wanted him?”

“Dad,” you gritted your teeth, nails sinking down onto your thigh. Satoru remained silent between you both, although you could feel his burning gaze penetrating through the back of your skull. “It’s both our mistake. But this child...we don’t see it as that. We like to view it as a blessing. It may be true we harbour no affection for one another, but we want to be good parents. That’s all you need to know and I find no reason to explain myself to you. If you have nothing else to say, you can go back home. I’ll pay for your ride,” slamming down a few bills his way, you glared at your father, who shrunk back at the anger radiating off of you. “You’re not welcome here, Dad. Just go back home.”

“I’m just worried for you.”

“You don’t have to. I’m not a little kid anymore.”

“I never said you were,” he sighed, rubbing the sides of his temples. “But he just took all your opportunities away from you! What about your dreams? What about your plan of having your own career once you have enough experience? What about—”

“Are you implying that because I’m pregnant, suddenly I’m not qualified to fulfil my goals?”

“Sir,” Satoru cut you off, releasing your hands as he leaned forwards on the table, becoming more and more like the CEO he was trained to be – all authority and gentle command that won the hearts of multiple investors. “I assure you that I won’t be holding your daughter back from the things she wants to achieve. As her co-parent, I’m perfectly capable of supporting her in the dreams she wishes to achieve. I’ve worked with her for years; I know she can reach for the stars if she wanted.”

Your mind blanked.

“Young man, don’t talk to me as if you know my daughter better than I do,” your father scorned, “I’m not questioning your capability to support her, but what about your credibility? How can you assure me you’ll really be there for her? How can you assure me you won’t leave my daughter stranded in the middle of nowhere? How can you assure me you can protect her from the harsh criticism of society? Money can’t provide nor does it solve anything,” your father copied his gesture by leaning forward, but it was to poke Satoru’s chest. “From what I’ve heard about you, I suppose you understand perfectly well why I don’t trust you.”

“Sir, I do plan on marrying your daughter and to give her the life she deserves,” Satoru confessed, effectively stealing from you the ability to speak as he glimpsed your way. “If she lets me.”

“You’ll marry her? Be faithful to her as your wife and have a family? Are you sure you can do that?”

“Yes, Sir, I’m highly confident I can. I’ll make sure of it.”

“Then that’s all I need to know,” your father leaned back in your seat, arms crossed against his chest and a stern expression on his face. “And if I find out you hurt or make my daughter cry in any way, I’ll beat up that pretty face of yours. I have two more sons that’re willing to do the same, if you don’t watch your actions.”

Satoru beamed at your father’s ‘approval.’ “I’ll face any consequence if I fall short on my duties, Sir, but I assure you, it will never have come to that.”

“So we’ve come to an agreement?”

The two men linked and shook hands across the table, completely disregarding the fact you were right beside him. You were beyond appalled, but mostly hurt that you’d been reduced to this way. And they were unaware of it, too, sickening and satisfied yet tense smiles were masked on their faces as they decided your future.

You stood up and left the restaurant.

You kept walking as fast as you could in the cold night, hands shoved into the coat of your pockets. Thousands of pin needles pricked at your heart and your skin the more you replayed the memory in your head. How stupid were you to think that Satoru would be different? And marriage? Was he serious? It all made you sick to the core to the point you wanted to throw up and disappear, until a heavy set of footsteps echoed behind you and tugged your wrist.

“Y/N, wait!” Satoru panted, hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. “What’s wrong with you? You just up and left—”

“Seriously, Satoru, you’re asking me that?” your face fell flat at his cluelessness, “What’s wrong with you? You men are sickening; planning my entire future like that right in front of me as if I don’t have a say in what I want. None of you asked if I’m okay with this. You really went ahead deciding we’ll get married when I told you already, I don’t want to marry you and I never will!”

Satoru brushed a hand over his hair, a hand on his hip. You could tell his patience was being tested – after being verbally harassed by your father and now with you pushing back in the same heat, it was only a matter of time before he lost his cool. Surprisingly enough, however, his voice remained levelled as he sighed. “What did you expect me to do back there? Tell your father that we’re just going to be roommates and raise a child together as if we’re not already family?” he defended, words slow and pronounced with a hint of hurt behind them. “I respect you and I truly do want to be with you, that’s why I wanted us to get married.”

“You respect me?” you laughed incredulously, “Are you hearing yourself right now? No person respects another by deciding what happens to my life without my consent!”

“I’m sorry I didn’t ask, okay? I apologize for it and I acknowledge my mistake that I didn’t give you much of a choice. Me being cornered and pressured isn’t a good excuse, but I wasn’t lying when I said I want to take care of you and—”

“Why?”

“What do you mean why?”

“Why do you want to be with me?” you demanded, “Why do you want to take care of me so badly? How did you even take this so well? You weren’t even that angry when I told you I was pregnant.”

Satoru paled. “Was I supposed to be? Should I have pushed you away and kicked you out my life? Is that what you wanted me to do, or is that what you expected from me, considering you’ve made it extremely clear I’m nothing but your airheaded boss and a man who always wants his dick wet, right?” the sting of his words pricked you both – you with your guilt, and him with his pride crushed. But he didn’t let on, didn’t waver and didn’t match your anger as his chest shook with impatience. “I’m trying to be good to you; I want to be good for you and the baby because despite what you think of me, I’m not the devil the tabloids make me out to be. I sleep around, yeah, but I wouldn’t go so far to turn someone away especially when I know I’m supposed to be there.”

“Satoru, if you’re only doing this out of obligation, you can be a good father without marrying me. Marriage is not a requirement; I don’t care what people say that I got pregnant without getting married. That’s the least of my concern, I just want the baby to grow up healthy but I don’t want to be involved with you.”

With how stunned Satoru looked, one would’ve thought you slapped him right in the face. That mere sight of seeing your boss tear his walls down in front of you almost made you feel bad, but you had to be strong.

You had to be firm with what you stood for.

“I really don’t want to be with you, Satoru. I’m so sorry.”

“What do you want me to do?” his voice cracked, begging and pleading as he stood before you, looking every bit of a man lost in uncharted territory. “I don’t know what you want me to do, Y/N. One moment, you’re telling me you want me to be a good father, and then the next you’re pushing me away. People are so sure that I’m a man who can never settle down because they believe I have commitment issues, but I’m telling you I can commit to you right now,” he held your hand, rubbing some of his warmth at your comparably cold ones. You didn’t fail to notice that he was trembling, but what about what you couldn’t decipher. “Are you really sure I’m the one here who isn’t capable of that? What are you so scared of that you can’t trust me?”

“Because you’re you! Because you’re a fucking asshole who’s been treating me like I’m an overworking machine and always expects me to undo your shit for you! Because you make me sick and I don’t want to be with someone who doesn’t know what love means!” Exploded. You exploded. “I regret everything that happened between us that night. No, in fact, I regret ever meeting you at all.”

Satoru took a step back.

All the light and joy that fit so perfectly with him had now disappeared.

“I’m sorry,” he demurred, “I’m sorry that I’d been so repulsive that you’ve felt miserable for all this time. I’m sorry I haven’t been a decent boss and I’m sorry I’m not good enough for you.”

“Gojo, stop. Stop doing that; stop apologizing!”

“Then tell me what you want me to do,” he barked desperately. “Because I can’t read your mind and I just want to be good for you.”

“What if I don’t want you to? I don’t want you to be good to me, I don’t want you to care about me. Be there for the baby, but don’t involve yourself too much in my personal life. Stop asking me to marry you because you and I would never work out. We’re impossible, okay?”

“How do you know we’ll never work out when we haven’t even tried?” he pushed, “You never even gave me a chance.”

“You’re not worth that chance.”

If someone could receive an award for effortlessly trampling over someone repeatedly, you would’ve been crowned winner a long time ago. You had no idea what came over you as you spat all those hurtful words to Satoru, but did your words bear no truth? The fact that he no longer defended himself meant he also knew that he wasn’t worth it – that he wasn’t someone to be trusted. It wasn’t that you were completely unfair too; of course you considered it. Weeks of living under the same roof as him and you most definitely considered it. Say you did get married and became a real family – what then? It wasn’t a marriage out of love, but rather out of responsibility and obligation.

As much as you loved your child, you couldn’t imagine throwing away your future and living miserable for the rest of your life like that.

A life built on lies wasn’t a life worth living.

“I would never hurt you.”

Your heart cracked. After everything you said, after all your efforts to keep him away from your own safety, after all the hurtful things you’ve done to him, and he was still apologizing? Why did he have to make it so hard to let go? You were tired, so tired that you could no longer refrain your lip from quivering as tears caked your face.

“Gojo, please, don’t—”

“So if me stepping away from your life is what would really make you happy, then I’ll respect it. But there’s one thing I have to ask,” Satoru swiped a thumb under your eye to catch the tear. His smile was forlorn, his touch cold and words melancholic. “Do you want the baby? Do you...want to keep the baby and be a mother? You don’t have to do anything for me, I just want to know if the mother of my child even wants to be one. And please be honest, because everything you say right now are words that I’ll mark seriously.”

The word left your mouth before you could stop it.

“No.”

“No what?”

“I don’t want to be a mother,” you admitted, hands trailing over your belly. It felt like you were betraying your own child, but you hadn’t planned this. “I’m too young, Satoru, I-I’m not ready for this. With you there beside me or not, I really don’t want this.”

“Then,” he cleared his throat, turning his head to the side to catch a moment. You swore you saw his eyes shine under the city lights with tears, but it was gone so soon that you might’ve just fooled yourself with it. Once he deemed himself ready to talk, Satoru took a deep breath. “Do I have your consent that once the baby is born...it’ll be under my care? Would you prefer to reach your own dreams, then? You’ll never have to be a part of the Gojo family if it’s really not what you want, even though I could support you as much as you need me to.”

Your eyes widened at his proposition. “You’ll take care of our baby?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Can I...can I visit them, at least, once in a while?” It was more than just your heart that broke that night. There was no telling whether you’d hurt yourself in the long run with this decision. It was no easy choice to make – to actively pursue your dreams somewhere else more than being a mother. You wanted to do your best, of course you did, but it wasn’t that easy. Gojo didn’t have to tell you for you to understand that once you married him, you’d be expected to run the business with him and be involved in his family and their dramas. Now that wasn’t a life you wanted.

“You’re free to visit them whenever,” he promised, voice fading even lower into the background. “So is this it? We’ll just be living under the same roof until the baby is born and once they’re here...”

“We’ll part ways.”

“We’ll part ways,” he nodded in agreement, sniffling for a brief second before fixing his tie. The Gojo Satoru you got to know for a few weeks had now disappeared. Not even the goofy boss you spent seven years with could be found in the coldness of his eyes, almost as if he’d put up such impenetrable walls around him and nothing could pass through. The sudden shift in aura made your heart clench as he offered his hand to shake. “Okay. Let’s stay professional until then?”

“Yeah, Sir, I can do that,” your hands shook as you enclosed it around his, but now all the warmth had disappeared – from his eyes, his touch, his soul. It hurt, but this was necessary. It was what felt right. “Thank you – for everything.”

“You’re welcome. Anything for you and the baby,” Satoru proclaimed, perplexing you both when he suddenly pulled you in his arms. Just like that, the dam broke, and you were staining his precious suit before you could stop it. His arms rubbed up and down your back the longer he held you there, almost like a final moment to lean on one another before you had to say goodbye eventually. Beneath your palm, his heart beat exuberantly loud, so much so that you might’ve heard the prayers it whispered. “Stop crying now. The baby might feel sad too. We’ll both be alright – we just have to get through this.”

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